Amaranthine
by BlackPhoebe
Summary: In a cycle of reincarnation that knows no rest or peace, in a life where living is but a brief interruption from the void, the adepts struggle and fail to make sense of their resurrected world.
1. 0: The End::Prologue

_Chapter Zero_

prologue  
/THE END\

There is a place no one has seen for many years.

To many, it is unremarkable. A glowing spire juts haphazardly from a mote of living earth. Beneath the spire lays a ruin. If one brought light to the ruin, they would find everything dusted in shimmering purple and green. Decrepit, sombre walls of blue frame a path of mossy, uneven stone. Austere statues keep faithful vigil in spite of missing limbs and faces. Angels of bitter white lay strewn around a depiction of Sol. They languish on moss and toppled blue stone, and the moss and blue stones languish upon them. Luna's stone face is smeared, as if the gods swept a wrathful hand over her. Beneath this chamber, a chasm stews with prideful, red earth.

The world shifts around the bleeding ruin. An invisible, internal force arranges marriages between lands, and in doing so, ushers in an epoch of catastrophe. Valleys stand on their toes. Oceans dress for drier weather. Winters become unusually harrowing and cold; summers fester into feverish boils across the new lands, twisted like scar tissue into Weyard. Life is born, and life dies.

When the unseen force looks upon its work and is pleased, everything has changed, yet nothing has changed at all. The survivors spread over their new territory. Those that are fortunate and powerful settle into the center mass of the singular continent. Others eke out a miserable existence across thinner, more treacherous spits of land that surround the center like spokes on a carriage wheel.

Once more, the moon hides behind the sun.

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As a simple product of nature, people are doomed to be fractal. A species unfortunately afflicted with tribalism, profound nearsightedness, and a pathological craving for distraction and fantasy. Tragically unaware of their own transience.

Uninhibited chaos between human, beast, and the universe spouts in a never-ceasing spring. People capitalize on new territory, new power, and each other. Stone, earth, and wood are erased by concrete and steel. Humankind divorces the land and collects a stiff alimony. Civilizations soar on dark wings, then crash back to Weyard at the peak of their arcs. And, like something short of breath, like one that is terminally ill or mortally wounded, civilization stumbles up from the dirt.

Wars are waged, peace is forged. Memory atrophies like wilting summer flowers, lessons are misinterpreted, and the serpent sucks its tail. Greed fastens its victims to the streaking coattails of a power they do not understand, and their wake coats the mouth of self-control with dust. They are held hostage by weapons of their own design; endlessly clever, yet unable to comprehend the futility they have been subjected to. Whatever spotty wisdom they do possess is not enough to halt the inevitable. The gods frown upon their long-forsaken toy.

There is a place no one has seen for millennia. It is nothing remarkable. As the result of an earth-rendering cataclysm, the glowing spire toppled to the ground, and pieces of the dank ruin stand in sunlight. It endures icy streams of wind, dry summer swellings, and the silence of its own grave.

The children who achieved the feat of extending Weyard's expiration have been gone for a long, long time. Not one whisper of their names lives on. Not an echo of their voices. Not a visage of their faces.

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There are lives that end in fire and lives that end in ice. Weyard in ends fire.

Seas swell, volcanos blossom, abhorrent beasts skulk across land and ocean. Massive bodies of space rock take up relentless assault on Weyard's hapless denizens without warning or provocation. Sol waxes red and sick, and begins to die. He scowls furiously upon those he once smiled at, seeking to bleach everything in his line of sight from existence. Luna, one night, turns her face from Weyard and is never seen again, as if she could no longer stand to bear witness to such travesty.

People displaced from their homes wander the burning lands, and the constellations hanging overhead plod aimlessly behind. Monsters, animals, and plants that do not possess the elasticity to adapt to their new living quarters disappear. Food is scarce and the land is parched. Sol feeds off his own rage and grows. Those remaining lift a swan song heavenward.

When the very last human dies, and when the very last monster dies, Weyard is still. All of the smell, all of the sound is gone, for there are no noses with which to sniff, no ears left to hear.

The grass withers, the flowers fade. The oceans drown in Sol's heat. An inhospitable rock faces its end as the dying sun comes to swallow it whole.

In one particular ruin, a bit of faded blue stone and the wing of an angel rest within a pile of rubble, patiently waiting to be cleansed. They are relics of a lost age that no one is around to care for. The children from that lost age have been dead for a long, long time. They are dust, they are stardust, and they are gone.

The sun seizes the ailing planet in an unrelenting grip, swings it in circles until it's too dizzy to flee. Unable to bear up under the heat and pressure, Weyard is shredded, strung out and twisted like dough. And then, it too is gone.

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The black of space is sprayed purple and red with Sol's remains. Blithe and oblivious, the universe continuous its pernicious conquest, jabbing its fingers farther and farther into the unknown. Disorder and chaos consume all in their path. Moons crumble to ash. Stars die away like leaves from trees that no longer exist.

It takes years. So many years that the entire story of Weyard could play out hundreds of times over. When the last star heaves its last breath, the universe is plunged into a darkness unlike any other before. All that is left races away from the mess it created, spreading itself thinner and thinner. Corpses of suns and stars are pushed to give fruitless pursuit to the breadcrumb trail left by other celestial bodies. The universe hosts the largest graveyard to ever exist.

By chance, the zombie cores of stars collide, and the resulting stars provide momentary relief from the darkness.

By another chance, brief threads of life and intelligence grace the emptiness once more.

Trillions of years pass with no one to account for their passing. Black holes gorge themselves on whatever pieces of Sol wander too close, and white holes spew Luna's darkness and wan light across everything. Whatever obdurate cosmos remain are spread so thinly that their light is inconsequential. Even the bits of light from white holes lose their spunk and decay.

The new stars fade to black. When the last ashen core dies away, truly nothing is left. No more accidental stars, no chance for life to resurge. Only shy flashes of light and black holes.

This is only the beginning. The universe is an infant as the children once were, though most of its life will be spent in darkness. It is fresh from the womb, and each life on Weyard was the beat of its heart in utero. Fluttering, fragile, fleeting.

Of one particular ruin, of one particular planet, there remains the dust of dust. Infinitesimal, meaningless flecks of matter deteriorating into smaller and smaller specks. Of the children who knew the dust as home, there remained the dust of dust. Stardust. Ash. Slowly returning to nothing.

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If Weyard is to end in fire, the universe will end in ice.

Black and white holes populate the dead space between dark matter and what once was. Offered no recourse against the darkness it finds itself in, the light from white holes is drained like blood from a corpse. Without its twin, Luna's black cannot go on. The white holes begin to die away.

Nothing is immortal. Not even black holes.

For every alchemical particle generated by the universe, there is its antiparticle. They are entangled for eternity. They dance, separate, find their way back together, and annihilate each other. Over and over.

This unique state of affairs is disturbed only in the presence of a black hole. If a pair waltzes too near the horizon, one partner may fall in, never to return. The other is left lonely. They were bonded for life, and it will bond with no other. As recompense, the black hole gives away a piece of itself. With every partner it consumes, little by little, it evaporates. In time, it will give too much, and it will die.

When the very last black hole evaporates, the resulting explosion bathes the darkness in light. It is the last time light will exist.

In a time when time is rapidly losing meaning, it is empty. Chaos entombs all. Fading particles scramble, frantic to escape the end of everything. Anything remaining is cooled, so cold it will never move again. The last flecks of the last stars are frozen out of existence. All of the dust. All of the stardust. Gone.

Time ceases to exist. For the first time in its life, the universe is unchanging. It remains as nothingness, and that is where the story of this system ends.


	2. I: Serac::Maggot Brain

_Chapter One_

maggot brain  
/SERAC/

"I want to be a star," she said one night, arms stretched far as they would go, fingers yearning for the cosmos.

They were on their backs, mesmerized by the kaleidoscope wheeling over their heads. "That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

Elbows slackening from their lock, she rolled her head to him with big eyes. "You don't think it's beautiful? I mean, look—" Taken in a fit of excitement, she threw her arms out and clobbered his unsuspecting stomach with her elbow.

He squalled in righteous indignation, she laughed after asking if he was alright, and they bickered before gaining their feet and wandering back down the lonely little beach. The forest they opted to cut through was dense and filled to the brim with treacherous things that tried to ensnare their ankles. When they traversed the darkest part and she stumbled, he held her hand and gleefully patronized her. Flickering fires from so many huts dotted into view beyond the treeline. He instigated a race to the inn. She beat him with a few heartbeats to spare.

They were too loud when they entered the room and endured a proper scolding from a half-conscious Isaac. Too wired from their adventure to settle down for sleep, they scuttled back to the common area. Quieter then, he stared into the fire as she tugged an idle hand through her salt-tangled hair. He remembered appreciating her quiet brand of grace, tucked up like a fawn in the massive armchair, eyes glinting in the firelight. Their eyes pulled together across the room, and they giggled under their breath for no reason at all. A rare moment of bliss. Whatever peril tomorrow held was unknown, but they were here now, and that was good enough.

Garet had many regrets. He wondered if Mia ever had any.

It came back to him at random. Cool sand, surf crashing against distant cliffs. Palm fronds pitching and swaying in the breeze, air laced with the scent of smoke. Rough floorboards grating sand against his bare feet. The jilted half-smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

The north was colder than he recalled. Splintering wind howled at the walls of the shelter Isaac erected from the mountainside. The spectres of their frozen breath loomed over their heads. In spite of the furs he wore, the quilts nestled around his body, and Isaac next to him, Garet was numbed to the core.

The sliver of starlight peeking through a crack in their earthen abode was distraction enough from the cold. With little humor, Garet wondered if the stars might hear him if he screamed his desire loud enough. Instead of a star, he wished Mia had said she wanted to be an asteroid or meteorite. So she could find her way back to them one day. Crash back into his life like he had into hers.

In spite of his scorn that night, the capricious universe granted her wish. Mia was a star. Remote, swept away in the cosmos. Forever out of reach.

Garet watched the same spot until he was blind, rolled to his side, and made a vain effort to sleep.

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Camp was packed early the next morning following a hearty breakfast of lukewarm tea and stale bread. Isaac pulled his scarf over his mouth as a muffler to protect against the deadly frost, Garet decided he could go without, and they walked on.

Blades of shale and slick ice guaranteed a perilous descent down the mountainside, and they were awarded more than a few gashes and bruises for their trouble. Flint and Forge checked in as they hit a wide expanse of black rock. Fizz had ranged far ahead, and they lost sight of their fellow djinni some time ago. Isaac sent them back the way they came.

They moved in silence, stopping once to eat a lunch that sat like mush in the mouth and stomach. Ice clung to their lashes, driving winds whipped their cheeks raw. Late summer meant little snow, but even that comfort was rendered meaningless in the face of the brutal northlands. Garet's fingers twitched, itching for his hip flask. This was far too long a walk for someone with too much to think about.

At the edge of the basin, they entered a forest. A carpet of leaves cushioned the soles of their weary boots. Great towers of spruce acted as citadel from the screaming wind. Isaac picked his way up, down, then back up, moving across gnarled tree roots and dirty smatterings of snow. Garet made careful note of his friend's alert posture, head moving subtly left and right as the forest recounted some story to him.

Massive spruce yielded to small, scrubby trees. Leaves of rust and brown needles melded with fine, white sand. Isaac made for a hill where at the crest rested a soft, white horizon. The further they traveled, the more devastating the incline, and they were forced to crawl up the sand on hands and knees. It was frustrating, tiring work. Garet willed his screaming muscles and aching chest to silence, preferring to ground himself by fixating on the trail Isaac's scarf dragged through the sand.

When they cleared the dune and blinked away the harsh glare of a sunless sky, a roaring, a frozen ocean greeted them. The dune's crest ended a few steps beyond their toes. Down the gentle slope, the congregation of scrubby trees parted, creating a swath of gray sand descending like a ballroom staircase to the beach.

The beach proper was deceptively long, deserted, and littered with blasted crab shells and brittle grasses. A scene so bleak it sucked the yellow from Isaac's scarf and the red from Garet's hair. As they approached the water, the jealous ocean pulled the tide into itself and away, so far Garet could hardly understand where it had all gone. A thin sheen of water lingered on the flawless sand, reflecting the overcast sky like a mirror. The setting sun blew a white spot against the clouds. In the midst of all the gray and the white, water and sky met in a seamless embrace.

There was a moment when the world held its breath. The wind stilled, the sound of the waves faded at the edges, the blood rushing in his head paused. Garet sent a look down the shore, unable to determine what was sand, what was water, and what was sky. "Hey"—he coughed and wet his lips before continuing on, hoarsely—"I know it isn't the end of the world, but...it feels like it."

Isaac tugged his scarf from his mouth and hummed acknowledgement.

He should know better by now. Searching every square inch of the blasted ruin of Mt. Aleph should have driven the lesson home. Still, Garet's psynergy spread, searching for that familiar heat signature. Red wisps of energy snapped out of existence. He ground his teeth and twisted about. The forest frowned down from the dunes, dark and ominous. The ocean was deafening before him. And yet, here, far from the village, it was silent. Far too silent. His traitorous mind wandered into a familiar ditch.

Isaac shifted, apparently caught in a similar dilemma. Garet studied his profile with immense guilt. On the night of the storm and boulder, he swore that he would never let Isaac and Jenna wear those expressions again. It was an oath broken many times over. And here Isaac was with that look on his face.

Garet's boot tapped a frenetic tattoo upon the packed sand. He glared out at the white on the horizon, willing his brain to burn that tattered memory of the little beach on Apojii, so unlike this one. Isaac once told him that they would carry a piece of her in whatever they did, but he wasn't seeing it. With private desperation, he prayed for the day when the sour film over eyes and heart would develop sweeter, lighter notes. Grief was an endless ocean, and he struggled to tread its water. The edge was raw and unforgiving as the day it happened. It shredded him to ribbons without cessation.

There. A faint prick at the edge of his conscious. Isaac and Garet turned east in tandem. A few orbs of light floated down the beach, moving and twisting in the air like dry leaves. Flint, Forge, and Fizz dropped to the sand at their feet, silent as little tombstones.

A heavy pause.

"Anything?" Garet asked, unsure whether hope or fear gnawed on his ribs.

Fizz favored him with a sullen look. _No._

Isaac pivoted closer. "But you can confirm she came this way?"

_Yes. _

Isaac's eyes flickered to Garet's, both in disbelief she had wandered this far. Hidden herself away from them like a dying animal. He didn't want to imagine what her last moments were like.

"So you think…" Isaac trailed, staring across the ocean.

_It is within the realm of possibility. And even if it is not, our search is over._

Garet's considering eyes combed over the forest. "Should we have a look? Just in case?"

_If I may,_ Flint said, bopping around on its feet, _some time has passed. Animals may have come upon her_—

"Quiet," Isaac snapped, whirling with such vehemence that Garet flinched. "I don't want to hear that." Flint stared down at its little feet in uncharacteristic silence. Isaac covered his eyes with a gloved hand and drew a deep, calming breath through his nose. "Nothing of Felix, by chance?"

Forge hesitated before answering. _No_.

A thread of rage pulled Garet's shoulders taut. It passed. The time for resenting Felix was over, and he had no trouble reminding himself of it. For Garet understood, as coldly and simply as starving animals suck on bones, what was. He owed the fines. It was his cross to bear. Sometimes the guilt and sorrow were enough to make him forget he was furious with her. That he was going to hate her forever.

In accordance with an unspoken command, Flint joined Isaac in a flash of diluted gold. Forge and Fizz came to Garet. Isaac stayed rooted to the spot, so Garet remained as well. Silence swelled. Memories stared back at him. He rolled a shoulder and frowned. It wasn't Fizz's fault that the essence of Mercury put such a bitter taste on his tongue.

A tap at the back of his mind. _Prepare yourself for the event that we never find her_.

It was Fizz's fault, however, that it was so abrasive. Garet was a minute in reigning his temper. _We don't know if something changed._

_Did you ever know her as one to change her mind?_

_I know she's somewhere._ In that weakened moment, despair seized his heart. To never know what happened for certain…

_Martian._

_What?_ he snipped.

_You are correct, in some sense. We may never find her, but she is still here._

_What are you going on about?_

_You will find that she is just over the next hill._

Garet huffed. Some djinn were mindless and asinine. Others were like Fizz.

Quieter in tone, Fizz retired with, _Yesterday is heavy, Martian. Set it down_.

"We'll break camp for today." Isaac rubbed his hands together absentmindedly. "Search the woods for as long as we see fit. Then head home." With that, they turned their backs on the gray void and started up the beach. It grew dark enough that Garet held a flame in his open palm to light the way.

Near the apex of the dune, Isaac cleared his throat. "I think I'll go with Jenna."

Garet's foot skipped a step, and he struggled to maintain nonchalance. "Huh?"

"To Kalay. For now, at least."

"For now?"

"I still need to convince my parents to move," Isaac sighed. Even in the dark, Garet knew he would be thumbing his temple. "And I'm uncomfortable leaving Mt. Aleph unattended."

Deciding he was too tired to reignite that debate, Garet walked on without responding. They selected a spot nestled between an outcrop of trees and broke camp. The relief from the wind-chill was minimal.

When they sat to eat their mint and leftover berries, Isaac spoke again. "Have you decided?"

"Decided what?"

Isaac cut him a level look over the crackling fire. "If you're staying or leaving."

"What is there to stay for?" Garet wiped his fingers against his gritty trousers before adopting a less argumentative tone. "You know how it is. I go where you go." They shared a companionable look and spoke no more. When they laid down to rest, a few slivers of stars peeked through the spaces in their wooden shelter.

He had started looking for her in the oddest places. There were numerous, half-hearted passes by the sanctum. Sometimes he worked up the courage to walk up the river and to the pond. More ridiculously, he would stand and watch the lupines Kay planted in their garden. By far, the oddest place he looked was in the night sky. He was prone to searching for her star all night, yearning for something to wish on.

No matter how hard or how long he looked, he never found her.


	3. II: Hail::Reckoner

_Chapter Two_

reckoner  
/HAIL/

The smell struck first. Metal tang so heavy her tongue drank it up like a sponge. Dots and smears decorated the stone floor of the sanctum, a scarlet map drawn out to the man slumped against the last pew. His skin was pale, tunic torn at the bicep and soaked in red. "When," he heaved, "did you get here?"

"Twelve days ago."

"Where's Hiram? Ephraim?"

"They left for Kalay—"

"Don't get any closer!"

Mia halted, hands raised in peace. "Please allow me to tend to that. You're bleeding—"

"No shit, I'm bleeding," he snarled, dropping into a pew.

"I was saying," she continued quietly, "that you're bleeding out. Whatever caused that injury nicked the artery—"

"I'd rather die than have your filth anywhere near me. Who else is here?"

"For now, only I am."

"There are no others?"

"I sent the apprentices on a break. My timing was poor, apparently."

Sweat beaded on his face and dripped to the floor as he bowed his head. Bright red blood spurted between his fingers in a death rhythm. "Guess I'll die, then."

Mia pursed her lips. "Is that really necessary?"

"_Yes_."

As he resigned himself to gasping, she ventured further down the center aisle, pausing when he picked his head up to glower in lackluster warning. She gripped the back of a pew, fingers drumming as she calculated a plan of action. Though quick action was necessary, harassing him into allowing treatment would be dangerous; if she agitated him and drove his blood pressure up, he would bleed out in minutes. Mia rapped her fingers once more before crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the pew. Perhaps the solution presented itself in the problem. "Well, if you insist on bleeding to death, I'd prefer it if you did it outside and not on my floor."

"Fuck you." With practiced focus, Mia watched his blood pressure spike in a fit of anger. The juxtaposition had him swooning, and he subsequently failed to notice the hum and flash of her psynergy. "Gods," he moaned, slumping backwards.

"There's no reason to suffer and die over trivialities," Mia said, edging closer.

"Trivialities to you, heathen." His eyelids fluttered. He weaved in his seat. Blood pooled in the pew and splattered to the floor.

"You might be surprised to find we believe in the same things."

Breathing stuttering and shallow, his hand slipped from his arm. He pitched sideways with a final gasp. Mia swept low and caught him around the shoulders before he smashed to the stone. Struggling with his weight, she eased him onto the floor and flicked her cloak from her shoulders. "Easy. I'm going to take care of that for you," she murmured, folding the cloak and placing it beneath his head. "Now, what's your name?"

"Saul," he muttered, eyes rolling like a colt's.

She put her hands to his arm with great skill and care, healing it while resuming precise control of his medulla and hypothalamus. If she put him to sleep too quickly, she feared he would suspect her treachery. "How did this happen, Saul?"

"Been out driving my flock over Bald Hills...came back to the area a few days ago. Some kids out being nuisances. Went after them. Little bastards shot me with an arrow."

Mia finished closing the wound with a silent exhale and frowned at the purple hue of her robes. Tapping around her head, she called for Fizz's power to rejuvenate Saul in lieu of abandoning him to secure medicine. "I'm sorry, but there isn't much I can do for blood loss. When you feel a little stronger, let's move you into a room so you can recover properly."

He moaned in reply. Working in tandem with the djinni, Mia finished putting Saul to sleep. Fizz materialized on his stuttering chest. _How cold of you, little priestess._

Mia's responding smirk was tinged with guilt. "Would you have found me any warmer if I had taken a seat and watched him die?"

_Perhaps. Then you would have been providing him what he asked for._

"Thank you for helping, Fizz."

_Of course. If you happen to need anything else, please do not hesitate to ask Spritz or Tonic first._ Their eyes met in a drawn out stare, punctuated by a long sigh from Mia.

After the apprentices returned to help with patient relocation and clean-up, Mia left Spritz and Tonic behind to provide extra, metaphorical hands while she took a few hours to herself.

Unsteady, wavering lines of pale dirt and smooshed grass quilted the sanctum and every other building in the village together. Humming absentmindedly, Mia decided on the long way home and struck out west. Dogs snoozing under porches to escape the afternoon sun lifted inquisitive noses at her passing or otherwise ignored her. Caught in a mild breeze, off-white sheets swayed on their line, as did cobwebs in the eves of those homes with less than stellar housekeeping. A pair of tittering young women stood at another clothesline, air shimmering before their open palms as they coaxed their dresses to dry.

At the center of the village was a small marketplace that consistently fell forthright into economic depression and backwards into luck. Despite the measures taken to avoid the populated area, its cacophony dinned on Mia's ears as she weaved through another grouping of homes and picked up a trail heading north. Mount Aleph's crude, luminescent form stood awkwardly above the trees, out of place against the cornflower blue sky.

Vale had lifted its skirts and shuffled far enough down the foothills that there was no need for stairs. The hills were gentle and rolled seamlessly into a wide basin ringed with mountains. Apart from the odd shrub or two, a handful of old oaks and hornbeams, the apple orchard to the south, and the established farmland to the southwest, the only notable vegetation was grass and mustard plants. A lot of them.

A faint something pricked the back of Mia's neck, and she paused, throat falling silent as her eyes roved over the hills. Her djinn jumbled about as if they were nervous. Finding nothing, she moved on.

Four houses rested at the base of a grassy knoll, and it was by no accident they were squared away in this corner. Garet's home was farthest from the village by a few steps, Isaac's directly below his, and Jenna's lay catty-corner to Garet's. Twenty steps north of Jenna's home was a box of a house so absurdly small that Mia could do nothing but adore it. And when she thought of how her friends had gone out of their way to create and fill it with a rag-tag ensemble of furniture, Mia could do nothing but adore them.

She opened the door. Silence bled into her ears. She walked back out.

It was too early for anyone to be sulking at home, so Mia was brief in her routine checks on the other family members to see if they were in need of anything. She then made the executive decision to go and harass Kraden. Hugging the outskirts and cutting further west than before, she crossed a river by way of a low bridge consisting of a halved-log outfitted with high rails. Winding downstream was the main hub where people collected water and children frolicked. It was cold, fresh mountain water, and this river was a sizeable tributary from the one that cut through Vale previously. (It was a stream, really. She called it a river out of pity.)

There was significant breathing space between Kraden's home and the rest of the village; whether that was by his choice or another's was indeterminable. In an exceedingly rare occasion, a note on the door alleged he was "Off to Mt. Aleph with Isaac" followed by a rambling dissertation pertaining to something about alchemy. Mia started the lugubrious trip home.

But, no matter. There were always chores to get ahead on, food to prepare and bring to the sanctum, socks to convert into stuffed animals for the children, not to mention laundering her robes—

_Is there an issue?_ she inquired of her djinn, who were currently bouncing off the walls of her head.

Fizz answered, sounding harried. _There is always an issue with them_.

_Kindly get them to stop, would you? They're making it difficult for me to think._

_Your thinking is making it difficult for me to think._

Before she could issue objurgation, a faint sound of greeting disturbed her. Mia turned towards the mumble to find none other than Felix sauntering over.

He had put on healthy weight since she had last seen him, her critical eye noted, though Felix had never been in possession of a substantial frame. The hands he jammed deep into the pockets of his trousers and the subtle curl of his shoulders did nothing to contradict this fact. In spite of his innocuous build and standard appearance, something about him perpetually registered as unsettling.

Mia glided over to meet him. Figuring he wouldn't appreciate a hug, she instead clasped her hands before her waist and favored him with a warm look. The corner of her mouth pulled up, but other than that, none of the excitement she felt showed on her person. "And where have you been? You're the only one I haven't seen since Garet and I arrived."

Felix's dark eyes flickered up and down her form, and she subjected him to the same casual scrutiny, pleased at how healthy he was. His eyes were softer. Old haunts still clung to the lines around them, but a few had sloughed away. "How long has it been?"

"A year." She craned her head to look at the village. "You all did great work. This could have been here for decades, for all anyone knows."

He hummed deep in his chest. Mia cocked her head, surprised he elected to linger. "How have the villagers been treating you?" Something flavored his subtext. For someone more interested in escaping conversations than pursuing them, the fishing shoved her off-kilter.

She gave two hard blinks before offering a tight-lipped, "Fine."

An almost-expression passed over his face, and the after image left the subtle impression of a look Jenna wore when she was up to something devious. He inclined his head to her. "Fine?"

Mia released her hands to cross her arms and cradle her elbows. "It's either-or. I've had quite a few expletives and insults added to my vocabulary, and I'd prefer to leave it at that."

Something shifted on his face, and she felt a vague stab of frustration that she didn't know him well enough to understand its meaning. His foot pivoted, she mirrored him on social instinct, and they set off towards their square of homes side-by-side. Mia's curiosity attained critical mass. Surely, he was going to ask something of her, whether it be a dive for information or a favor. Regardless, she was pleased with the company, though she wasn't sure what to say. So much for ubiquitous bedside manner.

The bridge was wide enough to comfortably accommodate both of them as they crossed, and Mia entertained herself with tracing out the thin veins of water working deep underground. There was so much _water_ in this part of Angara. Dew rested beneath every blade of grass. Every shrub had water working through their minuscule leaves. Even the air held more moisture than Imil's, and she revelled in its feel on her skin.

Felix cleared his throat. "So. The Great Healer."

Mia's lashes fluttered, calling her mind back. "Ah. Uhm. Yes. He sent for me to assist with the selection and training of new healers."

"Kind of our healers to desert us and their aging master, wasn't it?"

"Despicable, if you ask me. Though, they were at least gracious enough to give the Great Healer forewarning of their departure."

"I'd wondered why he didn't send for someone closer first. That is until Jenna told me you came as highly recommended by Isaac and Garet."

Mia's lips quirked. "The world makes a little more sense."

"She did her fair share of bidding, too. She misses having everyone around."

"Rather elaborate way of cajoling me into visiting."

"They knew you wouldn't leave Imil unless someone else needed you more."

They reached a crossroads between their respective homes and slowed to a halt. Mia looked up into Felix's eyes, and he down at hers. There was something in them she struggled to puzzle out. Some ineffable, subdued sadness; an aching question going unspoken. Felix may have weathered the storm and boulder, but Mia wondered if the last time anyone really saw him was five years ago.

She leaned away from him, towards her house. "Want to come in?" she asked softly. "I can make you something if you're hungry."

His brow furrowed as he considered the proposition. "I wasn't planning on sticking around, but...do you have something for the road?"

Mia nodded with her little half-smile and led him away. The sun threw his shadow across the house as he leaned against the door frame and watched her poke around the kitchen.

"What were you thinking?"

"One of those apples would be fine."

The desired fruit was meticulously selected and passed off. Felix murmured thanks and scanned the interior of the house, sparsely decorated due to frequent earthquakes.

"You have your own home in Imil." Spoken as a dim recollection.

Mia cast her eyes down. "I do. I wasn't technically old enough to inherit it at the time, but the elders took pity on me."

He hummed in approval. "Most people don't have their own homes until they're married."

"It is a nice home," she murmured agreeably. "But it isn't worth what I paid for it."

Felix peeled away from the house, tossing the apple once and fixing her with another inscrutable look before turning away. "It was good to see you," he said over his shoulder. "I didn't realize you had been on my mind." He ducked behind the house and out of sight.

Mia closed the door with gentle hands and walked to the kitchen window, where she perched on a precarious old cabinet with a quick inhale. Determination and pride influenced every step, every sway of Felix's shoulders as he walked away. After a moment's hesitation, Mia opened the window and settled against the sill with crossed arms, quietly watching him march into the wilderness.

;; ;;

;; ;; ;;

"It wasn't—" Garet paused to reword. "Okay, for a first attempt, it wasn't terrible."

Jenna rolled her head to Mia, lips thinned and eyes half-lidded. "It was terrible."

"Ignore her. It was a work of art."

"An absolute flaming disaster."

"A _masterpiece_—"

"It didn't survive _one quake_—"

"It survived multiple earthquakes!"

"Multiple earthquakes so small only Isaac noticed them!"

Mia, who had obtusely placed herself between the bickering adepts, crossed her legs and murmured, "When was this?"

"We had to postpone when I travelled up to get you," Garet said from her left. "So, a couple months ago?"

"It doesn't matter, it's dead."

"Shut up, Jenna. Anyway. Isaac's been anal about watching Mount Aleph for whatever reason, so we built a cabin up on that little plateau to the south," Garet said, throwing his arm in a direction that was not south. "And it was beautiful. It was our first cabin. It had two stories and a little deck to watch the mountain from." His eyes lit up, and his grin showed too much canine to be considered polite. "I wanted to name it Fort Magma. Isaac thought that sounded off, so we went with Fort Lava instead."

Jenna scoffed. "I preferred Fort Fuck Up."

Mia winced at the following escalation of bickering. Bothering and taking the piss were longstanding pillars of Garet and Jenna's relationship.

Although she hoped Isaac would arrive soon so she could report back to the sanctum, Mia wouldn't complain if he took his time, either. This room held some of her favorite people in the entire world. After partaking on a quest that was one part planned and nine parts flailing from disaster to disaster, she shared no stronger bonds with anyone else.

Jenna had leaned forward, so Mia leaned back. Kraden, so blissfully unaware of the rest of the world, startled at her quiet voice. She curled her arms on the back of the chair and rested her face against them. "You received a letter from Ivan and Sheba, yes?" she asked over Jenna's half-shouting.

Kraden jammed his glasses up his crooked nose with three fingers. "Yes, yes. They arrived in Contigo safely, which means they've been there for...four months or so? And goodness knows where Piers got off to."

"Not to Lemuria, I'm assuming."

"Not for any extended visit, no." A thought came over him, then, and his eyes flitted about in rumination. Mia's view of the apparent crisis was blocked by Jenna's head as she threw herself back and kicked her feet onto Garet's legs in an expression of dominance. Because Mia sat in the corner of the sofa, and because Garet sat in a chair perpendicular to them, Mia's legs were also taken under Jenna's influence.

Garet, mouth opened to make a bitter remark, was interrupted by the opening of the front door. Isaac stepped in, cloaked in the scent of smoke. He shut the door behind him and stared. "Oh."

"Oh?" Jenna parroted. "My memory isn't what it used to be, but didn't you remind me to come thirty minutes ago?"

"Kyle and Dora let us in before they left," Mia supplied.

With a look of fond exasperation, Isaac secured a chair from the dining table and planted it in the middle of the room. He sat backwards on it, facing them, and folded his arms over the wicker back. The mood shift was palpable. Isaac was not a killjoy, but more like gravity. Good at keeping everyone stable, on their feet, and out of the clouds.

Before he could say a word, Garet demanded, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to speak to everyone."

"Well, what do you want?" Mia and Jenna cut each other looks.

The leather on Isaac's gloves creaked as his fingers worked into fists and released. A light frown started on his face. Jenna's brow furrowed. "Isaac?"

His eyes flashed to hers. "I've been overhearing some things about your brother."

The cushions shifted as she went rigid. "What things?'

Isaac averted his eyes and rubbed his jaw. "It appears matters have reached a boiling point."

"He hasn't done anything!"

Kraden cleared his scratchy throat. "There has been some unrest with the worsening earthquakes."

"So what?" Garet leaned into his seat, arms open wide on the rests. "It's not like he's causing them himself."

Isaac sighed, effortlessly commanding everyone's attention. "We can't control what anyone feels. And I know Felix is difficult to keep track of, but we need to make an effort to keep an eye on him. See if we can mitigate these...issues."

Jenna snorted. "He'll take kindly to that measure, I'm sure."

"Uhm." All eyes turned to Mia. She crushed herself into the sofa, guilty for some unfathomable reason. "I was with him a couple of hours ago."

Jenna narrowed her eyes. "With him as in _with_ him, or as in you crashed into each other and he was forced to engage?"

"We walked to my house and I fed him an apple?"

"Interesting." Jenna snubbed the word like she was struggling to dam a furious onslaught of others. "And he probably went gallivanting into the woods afterwards, right?"

Mia blinked owlishly. "What exactly am I missing?"

All of the energy left Jenna's eyes, and she sagged against the sofa. "You weren't here for very long after we came home, were you?" she mumbled.

"No." Anxiety churned Mia's blood, and her heart scratched like sandpaper against her chest.

Isaac continued in Jenna's stead. "It was pretty chaotic the first months, with regrouping and rebuilding. After this"—he waved a searching hand around—"honeymoon of having us back wore off, things got...well, they got ugly."

"Ugly?"

Jenna dropped a hand to pick at the cushion threads. "Felix is a pariah."

Mia blinked again. She frowned at Isaac. "That doesn't make any sense."

"No, it doesn't," Garet rumbled.

"I've heard rumors at the sanctum, but why just Felix? Why not you? Or Garet, or Jenna?"

"If I may." Kraden gave his glasses another poke. "The discrepancy must have something to do with his first reappearance in Vale. With Saturos and Menardi." _And Alex_, everyone added privately. "You weren't there for it, obviously, but Felix cut the role of villain a little too well."

Whatever anxiety had settled upon her smoldered to indignation. "That's hardly fair. They held even when the situation was made clear?"

Kraden's frail shoulders lifted in a humorless chuckle. "A full account won't persuade them, dear. These people feel wronged. They want their villain."

"Blaming and punishing him isn't going to mitigate their problems."

"You and I know that, yes. But, you see, nothing in life is free. Vale lost everything, and someone has to pay."

"I hope we won't need to fight your grandfather on it," a wary Jenna muttered to Garet.

"He has it out for Felix, but he's shown leniency because he knows it'll cause problems with us. I don't see why that would change."

Isaac straightened his posture. "It's not as if the entire village is out for his blood."

"Not entirely," Jenna said, looking to Mia. "A lot of people are ambivalent about it—and about you, and everyone else involved that wasn't from Vale. Not to the same extent as him, though." Her shoulder moved in a tiny shrug. "I get a free pass because I was taken hostage. Same for Kraden. Popular opinion on Isaac is that he's too naive and loyal, and Felix swindled him into his scheme. And Garet—"

"Is a moron who doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground," said person muttered darkly.

Jenna tapped her foot against him. "My brother is only allowed to exist in our little square of houses. If he goes into town, people shun him, scream and curse at him, sic their dogs on him...it's bad."

The indignation stirring in Mia's breast ignited to anger. Of course she had heard the whispers, but she had not realized the extent until properly notified. It was appalling to consider all Felix had gone through only for him to come home and suffer mistreatment at the very hands of the people he sacrificed for. The next instant, rage gave way to something else entirely. A piece of her heart uncorked, and all of its sorrow and empathy hemorrhaged into her body.

"He wants to be there for us, but…" Jenna's eyes were shining as Mia met them levelly. "I think he avoids me to keep any trouble from falling on me. I think he gets lonely."

Something, somewhere fit into place with a resounding _click_. Mia resisted the powerful urge to beat her head against the end table. Felix's curious behavior and the distant, absent sadness in his eyes were sharp in her mind.

"Well, that's good, right?" Garet asked. "That he hung around you? Maybe you'll have better luck in keeping tabs than we've had."

"Since he obviously has no issue implicating you," Kraden mused.

"She's pretty implicated, even more than I anticipated. There's not a lot for him to feel guilty over," Isaac said. "And even then, you might be the better option when and if things go south because of your status."

Despite their best efforts to not be blatant, every eye in the room eventually caught Mia's in silent plea. And she would never deny them anything.

Something else spurred her resolve that evening, the sealing of her wordless, solemn vow to all present. The silence of her own house crashed upon her ears. Her fingers ran over the pristine sheets of a bed that had not been slept in. She saw a full plate of food across from her, saw herself reflected in Felix's gaze. To Mia, there was no greater hurt than to be alone.


	4. III: Sleet::Transit of Venus

_Chapter Three_

transit of venus  
/SLEET/

"Well. We could have agreed on something less morbid."

"...Hn."

Disinclined as they were to make needless appearances around the village, Mia and Felix had rendezvoused in the wilderness. They ranged high into the foothills, into an area that had been decimated by the Golden Sun.

What was ruined had been reanimated in a thorough alchemical drenching. Where Mia remembered broken earth and bare dirt, a thriving forest had emerged, one that lacked the foreboding of Mogall despite a similar genesis. A terracotta army of year-old saplings stood about them, so tall she dizzied trying to view their tops, and so thick that ten of her could not get their arms around one. A burgeoning sunrise painted the tops of the trunks orange, leaving their bottoms to brood in purple shadow. The little light able to penetrate the thick canopy danced across ferns and woody shrubs. Though she was no Venus adept, Mia sensed earth's signature thrumming in the smallest smatterings of moss. Even Mercury's muffled flow within the great hearts of the trees was as obvious to her as any naked stream.

As they approached the dry riverbed (or, where she thought it was), Felix let his eyes drift over to her without moving his head. "I know what you're doing."

Caught unawares in her pastoral dalliance, Mia squinted at his profile. "Huh?"

His shoulders jerked in a silent laugh. "I assume Isaac filled you in."

She hiked a brow. "What is it you think I'm doing?"

"Babysitting."

"Ah. You caught me," Mia breathed. "If it's not too much trouble, and if I do decent work, would you mind spreading the word? I could benefit from a side job."

"What is your target demographic?" This time, Felix did turn his head, if only to favor her with that subtle, devious Jenna-expression. "People with children or other young men?"

"Surprise me."

It had taken a month's time and some scheming on Mia and Jenna's part to pin Felix down. Evidently, he was a ghost in training, and had taken to disappearing for days or weeks at a time without notice. They had convinced him to stay nearby, but Mia worried that thread of time was growing taut.

Felix cut right through a dense thicket, and they began their ascent up the dry riverbed. It was littered with boulders, some as large as houses. And it was here Mia finally admitted she had let herself go, and needed to implement an exercise regimen if she wished to reap the benefits of a body in peak condition again. Regardless, whenever Felix extended a hand to her, she swatted him away.

Again he veered from their trail and broke through the treeline. The incline was so steep they might as well have been walking up a wall. In vain effort to hide her wheezing, Mia voiced a burning question. "Did you keep looking after I left?"

Felix refrained from answering until the ground rounded off and Mount Aleph's broken peak was back in view. "For a month." In anticipation of another question, he added, "Never found anything."

They continued without speech. Felix's natural fear of heights showed in his grim expression as they scaled a sheer cliff, and Mia's arms were on _fire_ when she crawled to the top. Panting and dusted in red clay, the pair took a moment to appreciate Mount Aleph in all of its lopsided, burning glory.

Felix drained his canteen in long, thirsty gulps, pausing only to thank Mia for refilling it. He wiped his arm over the back of his mouth, dark eyes thoughtful. "I gather you were close at one point," he said. "Does it bother you...? Do you miss him at all?"

As she passed the implication between her hands, she dropped it, and watched it plummet to the ground and keep going. It was impossible for her to subscribe to the idea, to think of him as anything but alive. Still, Mia wished for the certainty that he was dead. If he was dead, she could grieve and move on. She was relearning how much harder it was to mourn when someone just disappeared. "I think I miss a notion of him. I never knew who he truly was."

She exhaled through her nose in a puff. Seven orbs popped into existence, and from them came her djinn. Felix's djinn followed suit. They started up yet another craggy path. Fizz's small, cool weight dropped into the hood of her cloak. Mia reached back to administer a fond pat, and continued, "Maybe that's something we never learn. What a person is really like."

Felix hummed, a pleasant sound deep in his chest, and kicked a stone. When they caught up to it, Mia passed it back, and they kept the game going all the way to the mountaintop.

Once there, they puttered around in aimless silence, content to be lost in their thoughts and share the same air. Although Mia had concerns she wanted to address regarding his well-being, she concluded that it would do him good to treat him as a person, and today as any other. She could turn him inside out another time.

Hands deep in his trouser pockets, Felix sauntered to the cliff's edge. "Piers would have a fit if he was here," he muttered, squinting into the deep red sunrise.

"The heavens are red and lowering." Mia came to stand at his side, hands clasped before her. On a whim, she took her eyes off Mount Aleph and turned them northeast, lifting her chin like it would help her to see what wasn't there.

Felix watched from his periphery. "How has Imil fared?"

"Mm...summer was a little too warm. Winter was a little too cold. Nothing to report, honestly."

"Any destruction from the Golden Sun?"

"Some, yes."

His dry, old boot drew back. A chunk of flint sailed into open space. "What of the villagers?"

It took a few beats to unbox the real question. "They weren't angry with me at all."

"Really?"

"Really." Mia brushed the hair from her face in a minimal stroke. "They were more interested in why I previously insisted on the lighthouse remaining sealed. And about Alex."

Felix dipped his head, eyes trained on Mount Aleph. "And what did you tell them? About Alex?"

"Far as they know, he met an untimely end during our quest."

"But, they know nothing of his grab for power."

"Correct."

He faced her fully. Something burned in his eyes, the smoldering coals of a personal war. "Why?"

Mia pivoted to meet his gaze. "There's no need to tell them something that would only serve to wound them." Cautious, she lifted a hand to his arm, wanting to soothe whatever hurt her cousin had inflicted. It dropped back to her side. "I'm sure we feel similarly about Alex, but there's no use in scapegoating him. Bitterness isn't going to change anything. The state of affairs will still be turbulent. The people that are gone will still be gone."

Felix's brow softened, and he hastened a step back. Mia released a breath she didn't remember taking.

"I've spoken to Kraden," Felix began quietly, eyes on her, "and we can't help but wonder what would have happened if this had been allowed to occur naturally."

Mia cocked her head, hair brushing across her cheek. "What do you mean?"

"Barring a divine message from the Wise One, we have no idea if Alex was successful in obtaining the Sun. But, what if that's why this is happening?"

"You...you think he might have instigated the natural disasters?"

"It's possible, be it intentional or not. The unleashing of alchemy may be violent on its own, or his mere presence could have altered the course of things. If all that energy had gone unblemished, would this have played out the same?"

Mia drifted to the ground. Once seated and finished arranging her skirts, she kicked her legs out over the cliff and looked up into the red sky. "I wish I had known more. Or done more."

Felix's jaw worked as he took a seat. One of his djinn—Echo, she thought—bounded over and settled onto his knee. Fizz burrowed around in her hood. Despite being her most ill-tempered djinni, Fizz was, ironically, her warmest djinni. "There's no way you could have known he would do that."

"Maybe," she murmured. "Maybe not. In the end, the only thing that matters is that I didn't know."

"Not big on middle grounds, are you?"

Mia studied the expanse before them. The ruined land, Mount Aleph hemorrhaging red, the peculiar black discs dotted around its base. "They've been difficult to find."

One eye squinted against the morning light, Felix leaned back on his hands and spoke softly. "We've had numerous discussions about it. It needed to be done. It was right. Apojii might have begun slipping away within the year, and Prox soon after."

If there was ever a time to hold her tongue, it was now. However, in the midst of red and gold, at the edge of the cliff, Mia saw a glimpse of relief from the darkness chewing on her heart. With this utterance, she might salvage the year she spent embroiled in battle with this piece of herself gone rogue.

"They're small villages. Twice as many people have died from the aftermath in Angara alone." Her voice was so quiet she scarcely heard it. "Who knows how many elsewhere. And who knows what other tragedies may befall us."

As anticipated, Felix did not take kindly to the notion. Some of the heat flourished in his eyes, and his shoulders bunched together. "Do Proxian lives matter less than Angaran lives?"

"Do they matter more?" Silence blanketed them. Mia wet her lips and turned her face, ashamed and anxious. "I'm not implying any life is of lesser or greater worth than another. I'm saying that every decision for something is a decision against something else."

"A life for a life."

"Angaran for Proxian." This was not an alley she wanted to revisit, but she had been seized by the throat and hurtled down the list of every negative outcome. Caught in the pathology of rationalism. And when it dropped her at the inevitable conclusion, she never landed well. "It doesn't end there, either. Do we matter less than the generations succeeding us? How many people did we sacrifice today so that others we will never meet can live? Whose lives have we shaped for the coming millennia?" Here, Mia did pause, unwilling to branch into the sore topic of alchemy's abuse.

"That's beside the point." If Felix had been upset with her before, he now appeared puzzled. "If we didn't restore alchemy, everything would have come to an end. A broken Weyard is better than no Weyard."

"All things must come to an end, Felix. I suspect we only prolonged the inevitable."

Echo twisted to look at her, blue eyes flat. Felix mirrored his djinni with a wrinkled brow. "I don't remember you being this tormented by it."

Mia looked away. "Oh, it sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?"

"...What do you make of this, then? Did we make the wrong decision?"

"...I don't believe we are villains. But we shouldn't be anyone's heroes, either." She gained her feet with a sigh. "I don't know anymore. Ask me in another year."

Felix dusted his trousers as he stood. "If we were wrong, can we truly be blamed?" he persisted. "We did what we thought was best for everyone on the limited knowledge we had. We can't be wrong for that."

The djinn drifted behind as they made their descent into the valley, still cold and shadowed from the coming day. Mia crossed her arms, reprimanding herself for her loose tongue. Always so quick to implicate herself without considering the repercussions. Forever penalized by her own moral rigidity. "I was raised on objective morality," she murmured. "Right and wrong do exist. Just because we didn't know what the right answer was, or even because there was no way to know that answer, doesn't mean our decision was right or even admissible. There's a thousand ways to argue the point. I find there's a much simpler solution."

Felix turned to watch her. Mount Aleph's peak branded itself into her periphery.

"We might be wrong."

;; ;;

;; ;; ;;

"This is...wrong."

Vale, as it turned out, produced the nosiest Venus adepts to ever grace the celestial sphere.

After lunch, Felix took it upon himself to inspect Mia's house. Donning more than a scintilla of mischief, he had opened every cabinet in the kitchen and stood back to assess.

"Your mugs are upside-down. Why?"

"Keeps the dust out of them."

He gave her a thoroughly disapproving frown and closed the cabinets. "Everything is kept very tidily, at least." He stepped past the sofa and poked his head into the washroom. Mia observed placidly from the table, legs crossed and hands stacked.

In a manner strikingly similar to Isaac's, Felix rooted through her personal belongings without an iota of shame. He leafed through bundles of pressed plants, scrambled sewing supplies, glanced at correspondence from Megan and Justin, scrupulously avoided the trunk where she kept her clothes, and finally halted at her desk. "What's happening here?"

"I'm translating a few medical texts to Angaran so they can have copies at the sanctum."

"A few?"

"The ones I felt were necessary."

Felix blessed her with an approving nod and hefted a tome up. "This is the size of my torso. You brought these all the way from Imil?"

A smirk pulled the corner of her mouth. "Garet ensured I was well aware of how heavy they were."

He dragged his fingers through the pages with a snort. "You've read all of these?"

"Mhm."

"Did healers scribe the originals as well?"

"Mhm."

"Then, it is true," he said in rapture. "Your lot does have horrible handwriting. Even mine is better."

"...Enjoy your trophy."

Felix set the tome down and tapped a thick notebook with raggedy pages. "You draw well, though."

"I've had some practice."

"Give up on writing and create your own language of plant glyphs."

"You'll be the first one I teach it to."

"I rest assured." Continuing his inspection, Felix's curious eyes locked onto a few leather bound journals resting against a stray stuffed animal. His hand flashed out to grab them.

"Ah—! No. Not those."

The offending limb fell to the wayside, dejected. "What are they?"

"They're personal."

"What do you use them for?"

"They're _personal_."

"Sorry." A touch sheepish, Felix shuffled away. "Got a big nose."

"So I've noticed." Mia smiled in good nature, chin resting in her palm.

He smiled faintly back. "...I did promise Jenna I'd see her."

"I won't keep you." At the door, she asked, "Do you think you'll be around later in the week?"

Felix opened the door and stood in the threshold. His hand dropped to the handle of his sword. Mia's body reacted viscerally to the motion, and she made to go around him, wanting to investigate. Sensing her move, Felix shifted to hamper her path. She scowled in futile indignation. "Scoot."

A shout came from outside. Understanding that Felix was doing his best impression of a monolith, Mia gripped the doorframe and popped up on her toes.

A group of men stood a few yards off, poised and brandishing all manner of weaponry. A dog bayed at their feet.

The anointed leader stepped forward to deliver a statement of intent. "This day in Vale is your last, renegade" he proclaimed, swinging his longsword down from his shoulder. "You have been allowed to stagnate here for too long. We take it upon ourselves to rid the village of your presence."

Felix answered the threat with frozen silence, eyes flickering over the gathering, no doubt categorizing the build of every man, his elemental affinity, the weapons and armor they carried, what he himself could use to his advantage. Not bothering to project his voice, he intoned, "If you want to go that way, you'll be needing more men."

Raucous laughter echoed around the valley. With wrath and pride burning in his eyes, the leader twisted his head to the side and spat upon the ground with such vehemence that Mia winced_._ He turned to address her. "Do you stand with him? We're not partial to roughing up a healer, but if you insist, you'll find us more than willing."

Mia stretched taller over Felix's shoulder and met their condescension with condescension. "I'm not partial to creating more work for myself, but if you insist."

More laughter. The pack drew together, evidently preparing to enact their scheme. Felix's mouth fell open, and he frowned in disbelief. "They aren't stupid enough to attack, are they?"

Despite the lack of physical threat, there was no scenario in which this would bode well for Felix's image. Mia hummed, flitting through the possibilities. "I suppose there's no chance of deterring them." The only acknowledgment she received was tension gathering between his shoulders. She made to step around. "Alright, let's get to it—"

A stiff arm caught her waist. "No."

"No?"

"No. This isn't your quarrel."

"Were you absent when they extended an invitation to join your quarrel?"

Felix heaved an aggravated sigh and gave her a light shove. "Go away, Mia."

She glowered. "We're in front of my house."

"Go find Isaac, then."

"No," she insisted, holding his eyes. "Now, I don't know what they think they're going to do, but it will be better if I'm here. And I'm not going to let you face them alone."

Felix's head swivelled around as the leader came forward, hips cock-eyed, leading with his left shoulder. Gracious and confident, Felix suffered him close before lashing out. He covered the remaining distance like a cat and struck the other man shoulder-to-shoulder, spilling them both to the ground. With primal cries, the pack sprang into action.

Mia stepped out of her home and walked out to meet a man charging with sword brandished. She took a calculating breath, fingers flexing with psynergy. With a sharp cry, the man brought the sword over his head to deliver a cross-body strike. Avoiding the path of the blade with ease, Mia twisted behind him and pressed her hand to the back of his neck. He went slack with sleep, and she ensured he didn't impale himself as he collapsed to the ground.

At this point, the group realized they had misallocated their manpower. Two others barreled over. Moving swiftly, Mia ducked the vicious swipe of a mace and the instant after, leapt over the sweep of an axe. She doubled out of danger and extended a hand towards the assailants, preparing to launch Ice Missile and end the melodrama. Blue energy collected in the air. It faded as her hand went limp, indecision pulling her eyes wide. Twin fireballs raced towards her. The window to act closed. Her fingers tensed, coagulating the moisture in the air. Water embraced fire, spreading orange tongues over a shimmering canvas.

Silent and smooth, she ran up on the man with the mace. He yelped when he caught sight of her exploding through the embers and pulled his arm back to swing. Absent of conscious thought, Mia seized his free wrist, pulled him to her, and drove her elbow into his jaw. His head snapped around, and he toppled ignominiously to the ground.

Mace in hand, Mia whirled to intercept the great head of the axe inches away from her face. Catching the man's eyes over the deadlock, she surged forward and twisted precipitously to the side in the same breath. It was an act that served both to break the deadlock and throw him off-balance. He flew forward off his feet, boot screaming against the ice beneath his leading foot. His head bounced off the ground with the force of the fall.

A rapid crescendo of footsteps had Mia twirling again, this time to see the dog bearing down on her. Hoping to give it something to target other than her throat, she offered a forearm. Ears flattened against its skull, nose and lips twisted into something ugly and drooling, the dog made a flying leap. She narrowly avoided the drive of its fangs, snapping shut like a steel trap on empty air. It gained its feet the same instant it tumbled to the ground, but Mia was already there. Obeying the rush of adrenaline, she scored a vicious blow to the back of its head. The dog shrieked, then continued shrieking as it fell to its side and thrashed in stupid, uninhibited agony. Mia dropped the mace and held a hand to her chest. "Oh—! I'm so sorry!"

Inattention came with a stiff penalty. A heavy grunt issued over her shoulder. Steel gleamed in the sun as it streaked downwards. Her ears registered a wet thud. Incredible pressure bloomed across her back and chest before she sprang away in utter silence. A trail of shattered ice followed. There was a blank second as her body processed the trauma. There was a sudden, sharp stinging. Then it burned, it throbbed, it _hurt_. Warm blood soaked her robes, and she denied her body the natural urge to crumble to its knees. Humid air, while beneficial for condensation, was not an asset to sublimation. Regardless, the thin shield of ice she managed to conjure ensured her arm was slashed to the bone, not hanging by sinew.

Her assailant took frightened pause, as if this was not the result he had anticipated for his actions. For the first time, it occurred to Mia that these people may have never harmed anyone in their lives. Disregarding Hail and Serac's demands to be unleashed, she bowled him over with a torrent of water. Bloody hand poised, she disrupted the communication to all four of the men's skeletal muscles, effectively paralyzing them.

Wincing and grumbling in pain, Mia looked over to Felix, who was standing amidst a scattered circle of half-conscious and unconscious bodies. One appeared to have fallen victim to a friendly sword. Biting down on any resentment she had towards them for the way they treated Felix, Mia tottered over to heal him.

A number of minor injuries leaked red through Felix's dark clothes. Mia fretted as she came close, but refrained from putting her hands on him.

A sheath of gold cloaked his body, and the wounds were no more. "Are you going to see to that?" he asked quietly, fingers hovering over her shoulder.

"In a moment."

Felix jammed his hands into his pockets and surveyed the area. That weird, subtle melancholy passed across his face, and before Mia registered what she was doing, he was in her arms. A startled noise worked out of his chest. She jumped back, flushing and stammering. "Oh, drat, I got blood on you." In response to Felix's baffled stare, she continued babbling. "Sorry, I didn't mean—you looked so sad..."

"Felix!"

A streak of red careened into Felix's unsuspecting form. Jenna squeezed him tight, drew back, and in an expression of overstimulation, applied her arms to his chest in a stiff shove. "What the hell happened?"

He lodged his hands back into his pockets, apparently set on silence. Isaac jogged over with a scowl, stopping when he caught sight of Mia's shoulder. "Hey." He extended a hand, tinged gold. "C'mere."

Eyes trained elsewhere, she backed off, cradling her arm. "I'm fine. Let me see to the others first."

Jenna jabbed a threatening finger at the ground. "Mia, stop being difficult and let him help you!"

"For goodness' sake, I'm in no danger of bleeding to death!"

Jenna rolled her eyes and turned back to Felix.

Muscles exhausted by the morning's adventure now screamed as Mia saw to her patients. She tended to her throbbing arm to curtail the bleeding, but let it be for now. It could shut up. She was busy.

A man with a dislocated knee was closest. She knelt next to him. He wormed frantically away.

"God-bothering little—" His mouth snapped shut at the appearance of psynergy.

Gritting her teeth at the bouts of pain, Mia performed a cursory scan of his body. "Did you sustain any other injuries?" At his bewildered silence, she touched imploring fingertips to his leg. "I need to know if you're injured."

A shake of the head.

"How does your knee feel? Would you like me to go over it again?"

"Why? What are you trying to do?"

A practiced, easy smile pulled the corner of her mouth. Mia wasn't sure she felt any humor, but she felt no malice, either. "My job."

The others were healed with minimal effort, though she ordered one with a pelvic fracture to stay put. She would prefer assistance with that, and from the heated debate Isaac, Jenna, and Felix were having, it wouldn't come any time soon. The men she had personally seen to lay twitching on the ground, whites of their eyes rolling. Mia muttered an apology and set their bodies straight.

Meanwhile, rubberneckers had formed a loose, uneasy circle around the scene. Stentorian demands for explanation rang out. Isaac stepped forward, hands raised, calm, firm. Jenna stood at his side. Felix loitered behind.

"What, exactly, is happening here?" Every eye turned at the gruff voice. The Mayor, the Great Healer, an assortment of village elders, and Garet entered the picture. The gathering grew loud, emboldened at the presence of their leaders. Garet frowned at Mia's arm, but remained still and voiceless.

The unrest hit peak, and someone shrieked, "They attacked Abraham!"

"Yes, they're clearly the victims," Jenna drawled. "Absolutely nothing unusual about them going for an afternoon stroll in full battle attire."

"Look how they came," Isaac translated. "They're armed. Felix and Mia are not. You think that a coincidence?"

A screaming match ensued, one Jenna was more than happy to engage in, until an elder thundered for silence. The Great Healer came forward, heavy robes swaying with his step. He was an old man, gnarled and stately like an oak tree. "What happened?" he asked of Mia.

Mia flitted through her options, well aware of the weight her next actions held. In a technicality, Felix had conducted the preemptive strike. Given his poor standing in the village, the prudent decision was to lie, provided no knowledgeable witnesses came forward. Though she was averse to lying, she had no desire to discover what might become of Felix if things did not settle in his favor. She opted to straddle a neutral territory with delicacy.

"They came armed. They informed us they intended on enacting vigilante justice. We acted accordingly." She dipped her head, eyes rolling over the elders. It might be too large a privilege to invoke, but Mia was confident she could work her position so things went no further for both parties. "I'm more than willing to allow bygones to stay as such, provided you are as well. And, provided the situation is seen to in rightful fashion, now and in the future."

"It has come to blows and you ask us to do nothing?" the Mayor wheezed, eyes trained on Felix. "Good men are wounded and you dare make demands in his favor?"

"Yes." Mia brought her hand up to cradle her arm. "It is my understanding that these men are in good standing with the village. Are you asking me to forfeit their lives?"

Frowning deeply, the Mayor cast his eyes to the elders. They puzzled among themselves for a time and related their consensus to the Mayor, who gave the Great Healer a curt nod. The Great Healer shrugged his knobby shoulders. "Then I see nothing that requires further action on our behalf, apart from clearing the rabble."

The Mayor sent a sideways look to the elders. "Nor do I." He addressed the villagers. "Off with you all. There is nothing for you here."

With a gloom similar disappointment, the crowd dispersed, not before directing harsh words and glares to Mia and Felix. The relief that flooded Mia's body almost put her on her knees.

Garet and his argumentative smile made their way over. "Way to know where your bread is buttered." She smiled weakly at him.

A man scooped his limp dog up, and the rest prepared to make a humiliating retreat. One gave Mia a hard stare. Garet's arms tensed. "Have you already forgotten that you put your hands on a healer? Will you leave now and in peace, or did you want to occupy the hangman?"

He backed away without a second thought. "No trouble here, stud."

The Great Healer stumbled by, beckoning to Mia. "With me, my bird."

Ignoring the shooting pain across her arm and chest, she clasped her hands and fell into step, hovering behind his shoulder like she used to with her father. It didn't matter how old she was, what she had seen, or what positions she held herself; something about Vale's Great Healer inspired an old sense of awe. She offered her arm so they could kneel and tend to the last patient.

As they finished their work and stood, a hand extended into her periphery. Mia did not flinch or quail, but moved suddenly and soundlessly away from perceived danger.

"Gracious, child," the Great Healer scorned. "Settle down. I'm only going to see to your arm."

Her half-lidded eyes flicked over his form, noting his waning posture and slick brow. Hesitant to be patronizing, but unwilling to allow him suffer, she murmured, "It's alright, I can...nevermind."

Droning and pale yellow light filled the space between them. She shuddered at the pleasant warmth of Venus' power. The Great Healer dropped his hands. "What a belligerent patient you make."

Mia flirted her head and scanned around. Garet and his grandfather were consoling some beleaguered stragglers. Isaac appeared to be doing the same, with Jenna and his parents nearby. Felix loomed behind. Their eyes met. There was a different kind of question in them now, and they softened before he turned away, to the woods.

Something tapped behind her eyes. A distorted, watery voice echoed between her ears. _When someone shows you who they are, believe them_.

In a rare moment, Mia was compelled to roll her eyes. _Not now, you hateful little worm._

_Do not disregard the forest for the trees_.

_What, Fizz? And don't act as if you haven't always taken issue with Felix_.

The djinni retired without rebuttal. With a quiet sigh, she turned to the Great Healer, elbow proffered and the corner of her mouth curled. "Come on, old man. I'll walk you." Before they left, Mia turned to watch Felix's retreating form wistfully.


	5. IV: Rime::Superluminal

_Chapter Four_

superluminal  
/RIME/

Bright, beautiful apples bounded from their paper bag and toppled to the floor. Muscles atrophied. Lungs froze to marble. Hearts raced, trying to stop those eventualities from finding them. Isaac's hands left the bag, blue eyes glued to the ceiling as if drawn by wire. Jenna recognized his look of concentration, the way his pupils constricted, how the skin around his eyes and mouth tensed. He inhaled through his nose, cleansing and silent, and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

Bad energy sloughed from Jenna's posture. Dora uttered a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry, Isaac. She was sleeping. I thought it would be okay."

Isaac gripped her shoulder as he passed. "It isn't your fault." Jenna sent a sharp look his way. He ignored her.

Dora stooped to gather the apples with pursed lips. "Though I can't say I have much in the way of complaints. This house is spotless."

Jenna put her hands on her hips and frowned at the floor. In some perversion of nature, Mia must have gotten on hands and knees to scrub the grime from the edges of the room. "That girl is unstoppable," she remarked, then winced.

Isaac and Dora busied their uncomfortable hands with putting groceries away.

"I'm going to check on her," Jenna murmured to Isaac as he strode past. "Do you…?"

His heavy hand settled onto the corner of a small hutch. When he looked back, his face was twisted with miserable, inexplicable guilt. Jenna's jaw clenched, and she walked over to peck his cheek. "See you in a bit, then?"

"Don't think so. Kay's been asking me to see Garet, and you know how he's been, so...tomorrow morning?"

Prickling hysteria seized heart and mouth. Jenna squirmed, too proud to admit her truth. She would never ask him to rearrange those words and speak them back to her in a string more reassuring, more confident. Words she could ask him to repeat, words she would ink into her skin.

There was no greater comfort than having someone understand her silence. Eyes devoid of pity, Isaac reached out and pulled her into a tight hug. The kind where every inch of their bodies pressed together from head to toe. No space between skin or mind. His hand carded through her hair, and hers twisted into his tunic.

"I'll be there. I promise." His breath was warm across her neck, and his voice soothed her tremors.

They drew apart. Jenna deprived herself of a last look before rounding the corner out of the kitchen. There were no windows in the second story hall, and the doors had been shut. The blackness of the stairwell stared down at her, and she up at it, one hand resting on the banister.

At the top of the stairs, she hooked left and tapped on the first door. "Mia?"

No sound permeated her hearing.

Heart lodged in throat, Jenna tore her hands through her hair and scolded her stomach for practicing acrobatics at such a ridiculous time. An artifact of emotion, a phantom washed into her blood. Fraudulent anxiety harried her lungs. It didn't used to be like this. It had been years. She thought she had gotten better. Before she knew it, paranoia over Mia morphed into paranoia over Isaac, then Garet, her parents, everyone she knew (_are you there are you there you're still there right you didn't go—_)

The brass knob chilled her fingers. She twisted it and pushed the door open in minuscule movements, eyes peeking around the wood. Darkness greeted her with its customary silence. The curtains were drawn, windows sealed tight. A thin-framed bed stood against the back wall. Cradled in the center of that bed was a lump.

Flying in the face of Isaac's earlier confirmation, Jenna reached out with her own psynergy, probing for heat. She sighed in bittersweet relief and shut the door behind her.

Mia had a funny habit of sleeping with her arms thrown over her head, like she had intended to fold them into a makeshift pillow and aborted the act halfway through. The mattress was made for two, so Jenna had no issues finding a comfortable spot. "Hey, you." She rubbed Mia's side, shushing her stuttering heart when no immediate response was received. "Our neurotic little clean freak."

Lashes fluttered, lips parted, and a set of flat, hazy eyes peered up at her. Mia made a soft noise in her chest, brow crinkling as she shifted onto her side and bundled the quilts to herself. It was one of the more pathetic things Jenna had ever witnessed.

More than that, waking Mia up was something Jenna typically avoided at all costs. In those few unguarded moments between unconsciousness and reality, she bore witness to the bottom of Mia's soul. Eyes that begged for mercy and a mouth too tired to ask it. A torn up person devastated to have woken at all.

Jenna flashed a wavering smile. "Hey, lady. Did you make yourself sick?"

Mia nodded into the sheets, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her eyes drifted around the room, increasingly frantic, and she looked to Jenna in distress.

"You're at Isaac's," Jenna reassured. "Dora's happy with the house, at least. And it's...it's nice to see you up and about. Need anything?"

Mia shook her head and curled tighter around the blankets.

Jenna would have been happy to leave it there if not for her conflicting wants. Taking care of Mia had been an incredibly intimate experience. Witnessing someone at their lowest and unable to carry out basic functions unaided had helped Jenna find new strength in herself, and instilled an appreciation for life she had never considered. Some days, though, the reality of the situation was too much to bear with. "Not even a Cool Aura?"

Mia was a moment in dredging up her voice. "I'm fine," she croaked.

"Fine, fine. Hey...are you up for a trip outside?"

They waved goodbye to a fretful Dora as she disappeared into the village to see what Kyle was up to. Isaac's wide porch and wicker furniture had Jenna waxing envious (her attempts to convince her father to build their house a porch like a proper country home were unsuccessful thus far). Mia curled up in a chair and waited obediently while she went to rustle up some odds and ends for lunch. When she came back, Mia cocked her head in question.

"I went to get us food, remember?"

Though her health improved steadily, Mia had become so quiet. Disturbingly quiet. There was a darkness to her eyes, like someone had held her down and pressed their thumbs to her sockets until they bruised. In spite of all that had come to pass, she would forever possess a placid, steady force of gaze and the disimpassioned dignity of a healer. Always with cool hands, and gentle eyes.

So, when those eyes turned in their daily, unspoken challenge over food, Jenna found herself tempted to let Mia have her way. "Don't be a grump. You need to eat," she commanded though she was tired.

Mia contemplated the order for a number of tense moments before picking up the roll of bread. Bread was all they could get her to eat, but it was better than nothing.

It was early autumn, meaning the days were still acceptably warm. Sunlight filtered through random smatterings of oaks, willows, and clouds drifting overhead. The flowers in Mia and Kay's obscenely large garden danced to a soundless, mindless tune. Glinting fingerprints were smudged across open windows, curtains swayed behind. Distant laughter curled around a lazy breeze. Every sharp kick of wind brought light, shadow, and the penumbra between to the valley.

The beat of black wings and the whisper of feathers captured Jenna's attention. She felt more than observed the thermals the ravens rode on, and those the vultures soared hundreds of feet in the air. Sol's presence was acute in the back of her mind. The familiar heat of Isaac and Garet transcended the walls of the house before them. Her parents rested to her left, comfortable in their home. A familiar ache started in her breast.

Jenna was convinced she would stay angry at Felix until she was dead and buried in her grave. All his rationalizations and promises sat balled up and discarded in a corner. She didn't want her brother's empty words. She wanted him. But, he was no longer a star in her sky.

Some days, more often lately, Jenna wished she had been better behaved. She loved Felix too much, had been too deeply wounded by his actions. Through no fault of her own, she would always see him as a broken person, forever surprised by his accomplishments before she thought to be proud of him.

This, she thought with a bitter grimace, was not how it was supposed to be. Mia was meant to be doing what she did best. Sheba and Piers were supposed to be around more often, as was Ivan. Garet was never supposed to grow up. Isaac should have been smiling more by now. And Felix should have been at their sides where he belonged.

Sparks leapt from her taut fingers. She should have left when he did. Gone south somewhere, to a place warmer. She couldn't stand to dwell in this depleted, depressing memory of a village any longer.

"Are you alright?" Mia was looking over, eyes big and dark beneath the shade of the porch.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jenna snapped. Mia recoiled like she had been struck across the face, reminding Jenna how hard it was to be upset with someone who wasn't really there anymore. Agitated at the circumstances more than anything, she barely refrained from setting something on fire. "I...are you going to eat more? You've been eating like a little bird."

Guilt passed along Mia's face like breath against cold glass. Stolid in her resolution, she took an ample bite, folded her hands before her face, and chewed the bread like it was filled with needles. She held stern and still, apparently concerned that the slightest movement would convince her to spit it all out.

With more than a little shame, Jenna averted her eyes and fished around the folds of her tunic. It was a long shot, but she hoped against hope that it held merit. Mia perked up at the rustle of paper. Jenna waved the prize between pinched fingers, grinning at her demeanor. Even though the thing she held was a nondescript brown square, Mia knew exactly what it was.

The package was passed and received with reverence. Delicate as always, Mia opened it like it was a living, breathing thing with feelings and hopes and dreams. A little bar of chocolate-covered honeycomb presented itself. Frowning, Mia picked it up, cracked it into two, and handed the larger half to Jenna.

"That was supposed to be for you, dummy." She accepted the treat with delight, and the girls munched away. It was good to have discovered something she wouldn't have to force down Mia's throat, even if it was candy.

Prim and proper to her last breath, Mia took her time dabbing the corners of her mouth, dusting her fingers, and folding her napkin onto the table. Jenna simply scrubbed her fingers together, dragged the napkin across her mouth and tossed it onto the table. Mia stared off into space, at imaginary things. She cleared her throat softly. "You should get out of here. Go find Isaac and Garet, or the like."

Jenna kept quiet to avoid her words sounding like a reprimand. "You know I can't do that."

A line of muscle streaked across Mia's cheek as her jaw tensed. Her eyes turned up and away. It was a few minutes before she looked to Jenna with red, guilty eyes and a pinky extended. Jenna snorted the tiniest bit, prompting Mia to half-smile, causing them to escalate into quiet mirth. It was the saddest sound of laughter Jenna had ever heard.

"I'm sorry, Jenna," Mia whispered, dropping her hand and eyes. "I never...I didn't think..."

"It's okay. It isn't your fault." Jenna meant every syllable. She only hoped Mia could believe the same. "Hey."

Tired eyes flicked up to hers.

"Where do you think Felix got off to?"

Mia blinked, then graced the spontaneous question with a shrug.

"C'mon. Give me something."

"Is it a question worth asking?"

"I think it is."

A quiet sigh left her lips. "You're his sister. You would paint a completely different picture of him than I would. I only knew him for a handful of years." Mia reclined in her seat and looked to Mount Aleph's ugly silhouette, looming over all of them. "To me...it's like he was never really here."


	6. V: Fog::Mercury Retrograde

_Chapter Five_

mercury retrograde  
/FOG/

"—I hate you. I hate everything about you. Everyone who ever loved you was wrong. Why are you doing this to me? I did nothing to deserve this, you soulless harpy!"

Mia pushed her door open, head turned to stare at Jenna in muted disbelief. "You told me to get you up."

Jenna threw herself onto the couch, face down. "I know I didn't say this early! I mean—look!" She leapt up to gesture wildly at the window.

Mia flipped her palm up. "What?"

"The sun isn't up yet! There's dew on the ground! It's freezing!"

"It's not even snowing..."

"I was having such a nice dream, too!"

Mia withdrew a cleaver from the knife rack without removing her eyes from Jenna. "The only way you can make it worse is to complain about it."

Jenna scoffed from where she had stuffed her face into a throw pillow, evidently trying to smother her way out of suffering. "Oh. Excuse me, Nyunpa. I strive night and day to achieve the level of enlightenment and tranquility you have attained."

The front door caught on its hinges and creaked open. Isaac poked his spiky head in. "Did I hear Jenna—? Oh. Hey, Jen."

"I just woke up. Leave me alone."

"Okay." He walked to Mia when she beckoned in request for a hug. "You filled our basin this morning? I didn't even hear you come in."

"Mhm. I went by and made sure everyone was taken care of."

"Thought you ended up working through the night."

"Indeed. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Mm...I don't really have time," she murmured, hands a blur as she assembled tinctures. "That one already cost me twenty minutes trying to wake her from hibernation."

Jenna sat up on the couch like a zombie coming out of the grave. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why did you need to be up so early, anyway?" Isaac asked.

"I'm going to Vault with Kraden, numbnuts."

"Right. But, he won't be up for another hour or so."

"Yeah, _I know_," Jenna hissed. Her glare held so much visceral wrath that Mia felt it without turning around.

Fearlessly meeting the heated gaze, she touched an index finger to the corner of her eye and traced the path of a tear down her cheek.

Jenna looked torn between laughing and exploding in rage. "Best check your attitude."

"_My_ attitude?" Mia smashed the cleaver into a bundle of dried herbs. "How about I freeze your tongue to the roof of your mouth?"

Jenna slinkied off the couch and stepped to her with confidence. Mia shamelessly flaunted the three inches of height in her favor.

"Do it," Jenna goaded, stretching up on her toes.

"You two stop…"

Smirking, Mia raised a shimmering hand to Jenna's mouth. Jenna smacked it away so hard it struck Mia in the face. Peals of laughter filled the house.

Breakfast consumed and a healthy portion of bickering allotted, Isaac left to prepare for the day, and Jenna napped on the bed. The small dining table was littered with books and deer antlers as Mia studied and whittled a few scalpel handles.

A grumble issued from the bed.

"Are you awake?"

"No."

Mia reached over and chucked a woven coaster. It sailed across the house and bounced harmlessly off of Jenna's forehead.

"Do you know where Felix went?" Jenna mumbled with squinted eyes. "He was gone when you came in."

"I'm supposed to meet him by the pond shortly."

"How come?"

"The day Felix tells me what he's planning is the day I leave the sanctum and join a circus."

"Right. Well." Jenna sat up with a yawn and folded her arms across her chest. "He's been around more often, even after what happened."

"Probably on account of the villagers keeping their tongues in check and their hounds leashed."

"Yeah...it's nice."

Mia quietly dismissed the grateful look thrown her way.

A moment later, grateful morphed into something else, an expression that probed and searched for solidarity in equal parts. "You two have gotten pretty friendly, haven't you? Doesn't it bug you that he's always leaving?"

"That's just Felix." Mia's thin shoulder lifted in a lackluster shrug. "You know who I haven't seen in a while?"

"No."

"Garet," she mumbled, folding onto the table. "I miss Garet."

"His grandfather's been keeping him busy."

"A little too busy, no?"

"Maybe, but he doesn't mind at all. He loves it." Jenna shook her hair loose from its ponytail and spoke around the thin ring of fabric as she gathered it back up. "Speaking of, I haven't seen Isaac as much as I would like either. Or you, really. I don't know how we live within five feet of each other and never see one another."

"It is a little sad, isn't it?" Mia cocked her head with a slight frown. "How come you two…?"

Jenna took her time answering. "We still have a lot to talk out, but it's all sitting on the back burner."

Not wanting to be insensitive, Mia refrained from speech and instead gave Jenna her quiet, receptive attention.

"He did commit to killing his father and...and my parents. I think he's still coming to grips with that. I know I am. The whole ordeal put me off of him for a while." Jenna rubbed her arm, eyes glued to the floor.

Isaac was the sole instigator of Mia reevaluating how she defined 'committed'. She could never be sure if she would have the heart to murder her own father, and had certainly gained a healthy amount of respect (and a bit of fear) for Isaac. Even in consideration of that erratic god and its duplicitous trials, the events at the aerie said more about Isaac than anyone else.

"It's not that I think less of him, or that I think badly of him," Jenna continued. "It's that I don't know what to think at all. He's the quiet little boy I grew up with. I had no idea he could be that ruthless. To know that he would lay down anything—anyone—in service of a greater good…"

Mia and Jenna parted with a hug and a promise to make more time for each other. The official morning had stirred by then, and the sun peeked cautiously over the mountains. Mist rolled down the hills and spilled into the valley like a sea of sojourning spirits. A few deer milled about in the quiet dawn, and they allowed Mia quite close, giving no indication they distinguished her from a pile of lumber. She crossed the bridge and followed the river north, stopping to water a few baby willows traded off the Silk Road.

Her destination took her west into the more rugged part of the foothills, where she picked up a path atop an underground rivulet stemming from the main. The land dipped, the trees thinned. In a little pocket of thin grass and gravel, the muted blue of a wide, deep pond came into view. Very few frequented this place; the only reason anyone knew of it was because she nosed it out in one of her and Felix's searches for Alex.

When she cleared the treeline, a weight fell into her hood, cinching her cloak around her throat and throttling her. Mia scrambled to free herself in silent surprise. Crystal bounded out of her hood and allowed itself to be held, giving Mia a shy look in repentance for its mistake. Venus djinn were djinn of weight.

"Has it helped?" Felix produced himself from where he was propped against a young spruce.

"Absolutely," Mia breathed, giving the djinni a pat. Crystal nudged her hand goodbye before returning to Felix.

"Show me."

Gold light shimmered around her hands. The low rumble of Venus filled the space between them as she demonstrated a run of Cure spells and Revive. Felix nodded approval. Mia clasped her hands together. "Has Sleet been helping any?"

He nodded again. A blue light extracted itself from him and circled Mia's head before joining her. "I like that one. Always in a good mood."

"Sleet is very good-natured."

Hands behind his back, Felix paced the clearing, a critical eye assessing its dimensions and terrain. "I'm not sure why it took me so long to realize this was necessary," he said, scuffing at the soil to ascertain its stability.

"Necessary?"

"I won't always be around. You need to know this."

Mia flexed her hands, eyes drifting to a rapier settled against an old tree stump. "I've gotten by fine without."

"Since when has 'fine' satisfied you?" At her lack of response, Felix collected the blade. "What if a mace wasn't available for you to take? If you knew how to use one, you could have disarmed almost anyone there to defend yourself." Blade in hand, he walked to her, swatting at a swarm of gnats hanging in the air. "And we both know you wouldn't use psynergy in a violent capacity. Not against some foolhardy villager, anyway."

Mercury's energy spoke its cadence into her ears, prompting Mia to recognize the rapier as the Masamune. She accepted it with a hesitant hand, concerned with the distribution of its weight; she was accustomed to the unwieldy bulk of a mace, or the inconsequential feel of a staff.

"What do you think?"

"Uh."

Felix crossed his arms. "Unsheathe it."

Mia grasped the scabbard and drew the blade out with a touch of uncertainty. It was a lovely creation that the craftsman had obviously adored. Her pupils blew out as the metal rang with an almost musical quality.

"Isaac and Garet never taught you any fundamentals?" Felix scowled at her poor discipline when she tipped the sword towards him.

"The sharp end goes in your opponent."

The muscles in his jaw worked, and he stared at nothing, idle fingers toying with the hilt of the Sol Blade. "I took the time to teach Jenna. I don't…"

Leaving sentences half-finished was a quality of Felix's that Mia had learned to navigate. For no apparent reason, the words would evaporate off his tongue and hang around his head in a heavy vapor. Mia sighed, knowing anywhere between five seconds and five minutes could elapse before he spoke again. The period of awe-inspired fear passed, and she stamped about, playing samurai while Felix gathered his thoughts.

"Show me a basic position." His voice cracked like a whip, spooking her from whatever daydream she constructed. Unsure of what a basic position entailed, Mia visualized Isaac and Garet and did her best to emulate. She slid her right foot out to open her stance, cocked her hips, and held the Masamune at the ready. Felix grunted in his typical show of muted praise, then spoke his critique. "You need to have it in both hands."

"But I don't need both hands." Mia jiggled the sword for emphasis.

"I know you're used to maces, destructor, but this is more refined than swinging a hunk of metal around."

"It really is light. Even my ankh in Imil was heavier," she muttered, flexing her hand to make the grip bounce around.

Felix's responding stare was uncomfortably intense. "There are actual techniques to this. Structure. It should be something you'll enjoy."

Mia clasped her hands before her, sword and all. "Call me ridiculous if you want, but maces are meant for destroying joints in armor, and staves are meant for casting. This"—she flicked the blade out—"this is meant to kill people."

"Well. You need to get over it." Felix raised a palm skyward. Pulsing with arcane power, he coaxed the grass-roots from the ground, thickening and hardening the fibers as they made their ascent. He twisted them in a complicated braid, the end result being the very convincing shape of a human figure.

His hand dropped, and he favored Mia with a glance that was almost antagonizing. "Don't give me that evil eye. Strike it."

There was something to be said for how humbling it was to be taken so far out of her domain. Reluctance overridden by a drive to please, Mia gripped the Masamune in both hands, twisting the intricate fabric of the hilt between her fingers. The silver of the blade glinted in the low light of the coming day, and the steel was so fresh and well-cared for that it caught her reflection.

Could she claim to be an apostle of mercy and pacifism any longer? She washed her hands in blood so long ago, had done awful things in the name of necessity and ignorance. The person watching from the blade was a stranger to the one Mia thought she would become, and she struggled to reconcile the spaces between.

A crippling surge of self-doubt sabotaged her forward movement. Mia froze up, blood draining from her muscles, hyper-aware of the absence of cool confidence. Under Felix's harsh, impatient gaze, she tottered on and brought the sword over her head, arms baffled at its lack of substance. Standing before the dummy, she gave another heavy pause.

"Well?"

With no force behind it other than gravity, the blade dropped against the dummy's clavicle with a _chink_. "I don't know."

Felix huffed. In a nimble movement, he drew the Sol Blade. Steel rasped and caught the wan morning light like fire. Combined with the dark backdrop of his person, it cut an intimidating sight.

"You don't have to be so gentle all the time. Don't be afraid of it." His arm slung back. Mia responded wisely by pacing a few steps away. In one fell swoop, the dummy's head was lopped from its shoulders. It bounced to the ground and rolled straight into the pond.

"Hesitancy will cost you. But, you know that already." Wood rumbled and crackled as the dummy grew a new head. Felix motioned for Mia to approach, and waxing a touch playful, tapped the side of her head. "You always think too much. Strike it."

Encouraged, Mia worked to avoid getting stuck in her mind. Her arms lifted up and back over her shoulder, she darted forward, the blade tore the dummy's throat, and the head dropped to the ground.

"There you go," Felix mumbled, sounding pleased through his normal monotone. "Did you feel how it jerked?"

Mia rolled to the tips of her toes. "Mhm."

"Swinging that hard with that kind of hold is a good way to send the blade flying out of your hands." Felix held out the Sol Blade to showcase a better grip, then reached over. "Try this—"

Having gained a bit of confidence back, Mia swatted at his hand and held the sword out of reach. "I've got it, I've got it."

Felix tried in vain to break through the barrier of her hand before drawing back. "Stubborn," he grumbled. "And lose those gloves."

Mia graced the order with a sharp, stiff salute.

After informing her of the existence of the eight angles of attack, Felix asked her to strike where she thought they might be. To Mia's surprise, and to the great delight of her logical self, she found them all without any errors due to their intuitive placing. Afterwards, he showed her how to move the sword out and back in to herself in smooth movements, reminding her that blades work best when they move in two directions. He taught her more guards than she cared to remember, and fine-tuned a few stances she had been performing unconsciously. They swept across the clearing in unison, lunging into strikes and twisting their hips for increased drive. Coming together and separating in an intricate, ancient dance.

Isaac and Garet taught her most of what she knew about combat. There were dim recollections of tidbits she picked up from Alex when they were young. Everything else was trial by fire, beginning with Saturos atop Mercury's aerie. That Isaac and Garet were such fine warriors spoke volumes about natural talent; but, there was no substitute for proper training, the bequeathing of techniques honed over millennia by skilled masters. Prox had been an excellent, cruel teacher.

By the end of their session, the sun gazed upon them from the center of the sky, the dummy was rent to ribbons, and Mia's arms developed a shake she couldn't hide. Felix appraised her work, Sol Blade resting comfortably in its scabbard. "Jenna tore this thing to literal pieces when we first started," he mused, scratching the stubble along his jaw. His dark, curious eyes slid to hers. "You've never had an aptitude for violence, have you?"

Confidence having had the life stamped out of it once more, Mia drew in on herself and looked away. The old mantra started up, one she had adopted since travelling from Imil. She was the healer. Violence on her behalf wasn't always required. Her end of the contract was upheld when she soothed wounds, cured poison, and saved lives.

-and, what if ineptitude caused them to require services in the first place-

Mia considered this. But, all of her friends had drawbacks to their abilities, ones that could indirectly result in another's injury. Was she not allowed the same consideration?

-healing is only fixing own mistakes-

No.

-hypocritical pacifism impedes potential and use to group-

She was not as swift of foot as the Jupiter adepts. Not as aggressive or offensively-capable as everyone else. Not as willing to inflict serious harm, even when it was warranted or necessary.

-neutral to the group-

Or worse. She was deadweight.

"I like that about you." At her perplexion, Felix averted his eyes with a shrug and flicked his nose. "It's...nice."

Mia studied the dummy in restless quiet. Felix puttered over, seeming a trifle sheepish about something.

"Done for the day?"

"I believe so." She sheathed and placed the Masamune in his waiting palm.

Felix shifted foot-to-foot, failing to study her discreetly. "It's a little warm...want to go for a swim?"

Mia hiked a brow. "Are you up for that today?"

"For getting my feet wet, at least."

They covered the short distance to the water side-by-side, where Mia peeled off her thick outerwear and folded it into a neat pile. Years ago, undressing in front of a man in any capacity would have sent her screaming to the sanctum to pray; however, after having Garet walk in on her so many times, she no longer had it in her to care. After placing her boots next to her clothes, she plucked the silk ribbon from her head, leaned forward, and twisted her hair into a bun. Ever the entity of simplicity, Felix kicked his boots off in some random direction and rolled up his trousers.

Brow marred by a faint frown of concentration, Mia trotted off on top of the pond, where the scowl melted into a giddy little smile as the cool water embraced her bare feet. Mesmerized by the ripples, she kept her head down until reaching the center of the pond. She gathered up her skirt, and a breath later, disappeared under the surface.

The bottom was dark, so much that she could hardly discern the thick-leafed plants adorning the bottom, or her discarded ring nestled between the stones. An unpleasant pinch in the chest robbed her of breath. Her heart wrung itself out like a used rag. She turned her face from the old sentiment.

The play of sunlight at the surface was arresting. Her lips parted, and she allowed herself a moment of thrilling hesitancy before drawing a deep breath. In some ways, breathing water was more natural to her than breathing air. Here, enveloped in her element, body floating and moving on its own whim, Mia decided she could be happy living the rest of her life within some body of water.

Lodging her toes against a sizeable rock, she gathered herself up and pushed gracefully to the surface. Felix had submerged himself up to the calves near the shoreline, arms crossed and glaring in the afternoon sun. Ducking back under, Mia swam over and parked herself at his knee.

His frown intensified. "Don't you want to swim?"

She offered a faint smile. "I think I'll sit here with you instead."

A bit of the tension left his shoulders, and he settled next to her. Mia tucked her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, nestling her chin atop. In this spot, the water reached her chest. On Felix, it was a touch higher than his waist. He continued glaring out at the water.

"No need to look so grumpy about it," she mumbled, worried he might be uncomfortable. While retaining his reticence, Felix was a little easier for her to read nowadays. His weird half-expressions and abbreviated sentences became more transparent with each encounter, and she slowly learned what pages to turn to. As he held his bitter look over the water, Mia decided that nothing was wrong at all. Using a sweeter, more playful tone than normal, she asked, "Felix, what do you think about?"

He looked down at her, and she up at him, reflexively mirroring each other's smiles. His eyes caught the sun, and for the first time she appreciated their walnut tone. "Oh, uhm...I guess I was wondering..." He stuck a hand out, palm up, in silent request for her own. Curious and trusting, Mia placed her dainty hand into his.

With apparent effort to be gentle, he pulled her closer, eyes tracing over the scars across her knuckles and along her arm. "It's not often I see you without your gloves. These are from the quest?"

"Some of them aren't, no," she murmured. "I was a careless child. I had the ability to heal myself, so I was obviously invincible."

Felix's lips curled. "Of course." He unceremoniously dumped her hand into the water. Mia smiled crookedly and looked away.

"Mm." She waved her hand towards the trees. "I forgot to mention, you're pretty nifty with your…" Her hand flailed a little harder as she searched for the word. "Your, ah. Your tree chunks."

"My tree chunks?" His shoulders jerked, but he graciously refrained from laughing. "You mean the wood?"

Mia stared abjectly out over the pond. "I'd appreciate it if you summoned Judgment now."

Felix curled up in a desperate attempt to hide his mirth. For whatever reason, watching him struggle made her laugh with him.

;; ;;

;; ;; ;;

_It begins and ends with you._

Summer burned the trees, autumn swept dry leaves across the brown land, and winter muffled everything in thin snow. Earthquakes increased in number and violence. The artifice of daily life toiled on as if its numbered days were, in fact, infinite.

_You're in a meadow; a wide, sweeping field with rises and falls, grasses and flowers. The sky is the bluest I've ever seen. You're humming to yourself and dragging your hands across the flowers as you pass through._

_I lose you at this point, but when you reappear, you're on a beach. It's gray—everything's gray. The sand, the sky, the water. It all comes together in an empty miasma where nothing is discernible. And then, you're standing in water up to your ankles. You're turned towards the beach. I can't see your face. You lift your arms and hold them out, like wings, like crucifixion. And you fall into the ocean. I can't tell if you sink, if you swim, or if you disappear. You're gone. You're nowhere. _

Mia began to wonder if she was falling ill, perhaps as a result of long hours worked and too few spent resting. If it was a malady, then it was not one she understood. It presented as an ineffable sort of sadness, formless like the wind, just as impossible to understand. Invisible and internal. The darkness hiding behind the sun.

_I know you hate being kept out of the loop, and I'm sorry I never told you, but this isn't the first time I've had this dream. It came to me once on the day we first met, and once after you went home. _

_Hama says to take all my visions with a pinch of salt. She says the future is like so many grains of sand, so many drops of water in the ocean. Infinite pathways to any number of infinite possibilities. She says not to worry, but when I showed her my dream, she didn't say a word. Nothing at all._

Given time, the villager's cruel words colonized her mind, and repeated in her own voice, evolved into a virus that murdered her appetite. Fingers of ice and bone pressed spaces between her ribs. Sometimes her throat throttled itself, or her ribs locked up, and simple breathing became a violent, harrowing ordeal. Some days she languished in bed a little too long. Some nights she forgot the way out of her own head.

Never one to lay down, Mia put up a valiant front and learned to deal. Her fire would burn for no witness. She would crush that darkness into a place reserved just for it and run to her friends. Her nails would crack and bleed as she dragged herself away from bed to work.

_I know it's been a while since I've written you, and it will be many months before you read this, but I felt like I needed you to know. _

_I'm scared._

Ivan's letter fluttered to the countertop. Eyes half-closed, Mia leaned out of the window and listened to the wind in the trees. A few of her houseplants brushed against her arms. Kay always scolded her for overwatering them, but it was an unbreakable habit from youth. She couldn't bear the thought of them being thirsty. Antsy for no discernible reason, Mia wandered into the garden she and Kay had created, one large enough to be a spectacle within the village.

Indiscriminate patches of snow provided an addictive crunch to her step. Mia weaved between bright patches of rue, leaning down to pluck the yellow flowers from where they choked other plants. Their sap bled through her gloves and bit her skin.

Winter in Vale was lacking. She wanted Imil, with cold too brutal to risk defying and the silence that came with heavy snow. She missed the burn in her cheeks, navigating treacherous ice with ankh held parallel to catch her if she fell through. The preternatural, hair-raising singing of the spitz dogs and wolves lulling her to sleep every night. It was strange. The things she never gave a single thought to were the ones she missed the most.

Everyone had departed for the plaza earlier in the afternoon. Despite the lack of threat, coupled with Garet and Jenna's reassurance that they would tolerate no amount of smack-talk, Mia elected to stay behind. She couldn't tolerate the poisonous stares, couldn't stop assuming what everyone was thinking. Though she did her best to own her guilt, redemption was an elusive ghost.

Felix had been missing for a number of days. In a relationship partly fertilized by the fear of solitude, it became habit for them to seek each other out when he was around. Before she knew it, he had filled a little hole she didn't know she had, and wasting time with him became one of her chief joys in life. They would wander the fields, where Mia hoped the sunlight would sear the clinging weight from her bones, or the shade from the willows would soothe its silent, cold rage.

One morning, the butterflies were migrating through, and she being the brightest thing in the area attracted a number of them. They danced over her, perched along her arms, caught in her hair. Happy splashes of yellow clinging like sin. Felix watched like she was a tiny thing he could pin to a board. Something to dissect, parts to label, wings to tear off.

A hollow reminder of halcyon days. Her father taught her about nature's beauty, to be gentle and enjoy fragile wonders without touching and crushing in child-like excitement. He would take her south in the spring, to see the meadows and butterflies, the lupines pitching in the wind. But, her father was dead, the little girl was dead, the castles crumbled back to sand, and the ocean swallowed them all whole.


	7. VI: Mist::As the Crow Flies

**A/N: **Apologies for the incoming italician.

* * *

_Chapter Six_

as the crow flies  
/MIST/

They watched her undress. Peeking around, she removed her cloak in a smooth stroke. Primly tugged the gloves from her fingers. Her sash went next, and the thicker outer robes were folded and placed on top of it. Sensitive from years of dormancy, her skin reacted with an immediate, pleasant tingling to the overbearing summer sun. Left in nothing but a waist wrap and halter top, she laid down on the grass, arms over her head and back arched in a lazy stretch.

Stretch completed, she flattened out, limbs akimbo, and stared at the blue in the sky. "Do you need to watch every time?"

_There's nothing else to watch._

_Yes._

Mia sighed, then squeaked when Fizz materialized on her stomach. The other djinn waddled about, and Fizz struggled to filter their inane chatter.

"What's the matter?" Mia pressed her fingers into its abdomen in a light rub. An action Fizz once resented (to be rubbed like a street dog was completely undignified of an alchemical spirit so old), but had grown to tolerate as a simple display of affection.

_Someone is approaching, and you are in a state of undress._

Her lips quirked. "Oh? Who?"

_Felix! _Sleet exploded, bouncing around. Fizz shuffled away like an agitated penguin. A number of its fellows had lost their sanity whilst imprisoned throughout the ages. Fizz found them unbelievably irritating. So much so that avoiding Sleet at Mercury Lighthouse and that infernal, directionally-challenged Mars djinni led to Fizz meeting Mia. After witnessing her faithful toil and how well she upheld the name of the old Clan, Fizz felt obliged to contract with her.

Fizz did not have a heart, but it was not heartless.

_Not quite heartless, but practically there._

_Curse Azul and die, Serac._

"It's alright. Would you mind getting him, actually?"

_As you wish it_. Fizz vanished in a blink of light, leaving its companions to romp in the grass.

Saturated blotches of color bled into every inch of its vision. Trees smoldered yellow, burgeoning green where Venus met Mercury, and brownish gray in places influenced by Jupiter. The sky was purple, the sun and its rays glittered red. The signatures from nearby animals showed all manner of colors, blended into a final whitish hue in their centers. Up ahead, Fizz noted a being of white with heavy gold notes. It jolted to a halt before Felix's feet, and the world returned to murk.

Felix nodded greeting, unperturbed by Fizz staring sourly up at him.

_Mia requests your presence._

He nodded once more. Echo produced itself to trail Fizz, who was already bee-lining back to the pond.

_We searched for you in the village, but it was the forest that told us you were here. What is your adept doing? _Echo asked. _It is odd to find her outside of the sanctum or not otherwise occupied with her duties at this time_.

Endeavoring to avoid any conversation, Fizz increased its speed. It flew into the clearing and parked itself on Mia's shoulder.

"That was quick," she murmured, arm slung over her eyes. Fizz was momentarily distracted by the feeling of her voice vibrating up through its feet.

Her voice hummed in her chest again, this time because Geode threw itself onto her stomach in a fit of excitement. Golden orbs amassed around them, and the Venus djinn popped into their bodies to say hello. Fizz maintained its spot on Mia's shoulder, who was now sitting upright and happily interacting with everyone. The space was filled with noise audible only to djinn and adepts.

"Enjoying yourself?" Felix dropped to the ground. Fizz secured its tail around Mia's neck and leaned to observe, acutely aware of the burst of affection buzzing in their link.

"What're you doing out here, huh? I thought you were spending time with Piers."

"I was, but he and Jenna went to do something, and…"

"Ah…"

"I see you have the Masamune."

"I do."

"Care for a spar? Or are you tired?"

At her faint smile, Felix rose and offered a hand. Fizz leapt off Mia's shoulder and went to occupy the outskirts of a congregation of curious djinn. Dew and Tonic shuffled over. Fizz tolerated their presence the way men tolerate stray animals.

For their equipment, Felix produced a length of wood, and Mia a length of ice. Without preamble or any subtle warning, Felix struck out, Mia parried, and practice was under way. The djinn babbled among themselves, placing bets though they had nothing to bet with, commenting on Mia's progress, and praising Felix's teaching. Where Mia was previously hesitant, she now moved with celerity, and struck with the cool anticipation of a coiled snake.

It was a peculiar thing to watch them spar, and Felix's djinn shuffled about as they picked up on his quiet frustration. The way Mia preferred to fight was a source of endless irritation for him. Fizz gathered that his desire to close had been pounded into him by the Proxians, and that the desire had always been mutual. Mia had no taste for close-quarters, and denied Felix the brutal thrill of exchanging blow after blow. With her it was slash, stab, get away, coupled with a penchant for rolling opponents off their feet.

_Here it comes_, Iron rumbled.

_He's going to hurt her one day, and we're going to have a problem_, Balm muttered.

_She's a healer, for Charon's sake. She can look after herself._

Overcome by frustration, Felix came in close and took several vicious swipes, trying to pressure Mia into making a mistake. She slipped through the blows like an eel in coral and bounded through the subsequent opening, spire of ice low at her hip for an upward strike. It would have been a devastating blow if not for the minor issue where Mia routinely forgot to keep both hands on her weapon. As such, Felix nabbed her free wrist and twisted behind her, taking the arm with him. Mia whirled as well, trying to beat him to it. By then he had wrapped an arm around her waist, picked her up, and was in the process of slamming her into the ground.

This was where the majority of their sparring sessions ended. Mia lay gasping on her back, ice melting into the rocky soil. "Could you have thrown me any harder?"

"Yes." Felix offered his hand. She took it after giving it a smack.

They ended up sitting with their feet in the water, hip-to-hip, breaking their silence to make random comments or ask questions as they came. The Mercury djinn took to the pond, and a number of Venus djinn frolicked in the forest. Those djinn of a mature temperament stuck close to their adepts.

Mia frowned as she mulled something over. An indiscernible web of thoughts muddied the link they shared; an influx of scattered images, the ragged ends of unfinished sentences, episodes of sound and touch, and overpowering wistfulness. Blinking out of her reverie, Mia called softly for Fizz. Ever prompt, it beckoned the call and settled onto her lap. She looked down with a gentle, almost motherly smile. "Do you have anything you would like to be doing?"

The ridge of its brow drooped. _I do not understand_.

"What do you enjoy doing? Do you have any…hobbies…?"

_Hobbies?_

"Anywhere you would like to visit?"

_Visit?_

She worried her lower lip and rearranged the words. "If you weren't with me, and you could do whatever you wanted, what would you do?"

A few of the other djinn tuned in as Fizz pondered its answer. _Nothing_.

"Nothing?" Felix parroted.

"There's not one thing you would choose?" Mia cocked her head, eyes sad.

Fizz dodged her gaze, choking on bitterness. There was no reason to be cross with her; the day she came into the same knowledge was the day Fizz dreaded above all. _Our choices are not our own. And if they are, then they are utterly fruitless. There is no point in doing anything ever again_.

"That sounds...awful, Fizz."

_Not entirely_, Echo intoned from atop Felix's boots. _We are not meant for anything. We were created at the whim of the gods. That is all._

"Everything is meant for something," Mia mumbled as she scooped Mist up.

Fizz huffed. As someone raised on ascribed meaning, purpose, and objective morality, this was not something Mia would accept. _No. We are all inconsequential beings. It can destroy you, or you can find solidarity within, but at the end of the day, the fact remains._

Felix leaned forward to address Echo. "Have you been here since the beginning?"

_We all have._

"How old are all of you, then?" Mia asked, brow crinkled in perplexion.

The gathered djinn exchanged glances. Echo answered again. _I apologize, little priestess, but we cannot recall_.

"No better than Piers, are they?" Felix muttered. "What was it like? The Lost Age?"

_Let's see what I can remember. _From its place atop Mia's feet, Dew settled in with eyes turned down. _The gods created us before humans, and after the angels. We are neither inherently good, nor inherently evil, but we are subject to judgment. As such, we are parallel to humans._

_In a time when Weyard was as one, we lived among other races of djinn. Races you have not and may never witness. We were free to roam and live as we pleased. And it was good for a time. But, as with all beings in possession of consciousness, corruption eventually found its way into our society. Some of us engaged in wicked acts against one another. Others possessed humans against their will. Some intertwined with humans and beasts to create new species entirely. The gods frowned upon these perversions especially. _

_We were not alone in depravity. The humans grew too clever, too ambitious. The weapons you brandish, the texts you study, the ruins you explore—all relics from the peak of your ancestor's civilization. They are lovely artifacts to behold, but there was a time when they were weird, frightening inventions that ushered in the end of everything. _

_Greed and mistrust split Weyard into two: one light, and one dark. Our cousins departed to Weyard's other face_.

Felix cast Mia a look of muted excitement. "This other face, does it lie beyond the rift?"

_Yes._

"What is it like?"

_No one knows_.

"Surely someone knows." He looked to Mia again. The excitement melted to disapproval, and he threw a hand out at her unimpressed expression. "Does nothing excite you?"

She snorted. "If anyone else had asked me that, it wouldn't have been offensive."

"You hear there's a whole other side to Weyard and you don't even care?"

"If it has no bearing on myself or my day-to-day life, I won't spend time worrying over it."

"Are you serious?"

She shrugged and nodded.

Felix grew louder, more confused and affronted. "How do you not care?"

"If it ever becomes relevant, I promise I will care."

"What—what. What's the matter with you?"

"Okay." Mia held out a hand. "First of all, Felix—"

_That is enough_, Echo grumbled_._

The two exchanged peeved, playful looks before motioning for Dew to continue.

_Warnings from the gods went largely unheeded. Their creation was a troublesome one, and all children will eventually grow bored of their toys. They had not anticipated misbehavior on this scale. They turned their backs._

_We had long been at war. Man against man. Man against beast. Djinn against djinn. And so on. Alchemy's raw force and promise fractured everything. The elite humans hoarded power for themselves. The Great Clans warred with one another. Entire civilizations plunged into the sea, soared into the sky._

Mia perked up. "What do you know of the Clans?"

Salt, who had situated against Felix's leg, said, _Ah, that war was a messy one. Are you sure you would like to hear?_

"I can manage."

_Hm. I suppose one can claim that the conflict began over bloodlines. Pure Clan blood was thought to be superior to that of someone influenced by free alchemy. That would be you, Felix._

"And everyone else in Vale," Felix mumbled, hand to chin. "Due to our proximity to Mount Aleph and Sol Sanctum."

_Precisely. Of course, not everyone agreed on this observation. The Clans had factions before tensions arose, but the cracks would deepen. Some sought to destroy those not of Clan descent through forced sterilization or extermination._ _Others preferred to simply enslave those without any psynergetic capabilities. And when that grew too tedious, and the protests began to grow, the Clans turned on each other_.

_Fire Clans have always been proud, as was the Venus clan. Their squabbles began first, and grew in volume until Mercury and Jupiter were drawn in. One thing to note about the Venus Clan was its emphasis on loyalty. They were a Clan far less spread than the others, and because they had all their fish in the same barrel, so to speak, they were doomed to extinction._

Spritz grumbled beneath its breath, _Venus and their outlandish apotheosis of death and demons_.

Iron tipped forward. _I beg your pardon?_

_All I'm saying is, the Fire Clans had a decent reason to eradicate that lot—_

Echo leaned back in great offense. _And what of Mercury and Jupiter, with their eclipse tower?_

_A tower rendered obsolete without the great machines_, Fizz intoned. _Let us not forget who commissioned the Exathi to create those. _

_Exathi_, Mist spat from Mia's arms. _Pompous, brown-nosed—_

_Quit that_, Dew warned. _You know those lines of thinking do not mesh with our creed._

Iron puffed its chest. _Of course we have matured since then, Dew. I understand that all are created equal and are deserving of compassion. Except for those from Atteka. If they happened to slide off the edge of Weyard, I cannot say I would mind._

"My word," Mia breathed, clutching Mist to her chest. "You little monsters."

Dew shook its head. _We matured in a different time. You would not understand._

_Continuing on,_ Salt muttered, _full-scale war broke out with the swiftness of wildfire. The Fire Clans were prone to pillaging nearby settlements when they were not busy with Venus. Mercury provided aid when requested, defended when they were attacked, but otherwise focused their energy on pacifism. Jupiter Clans laid in wait, slow to act. Many of them were destroyed, but the Anemos managed to escape. Shortly after that, Lemuria made its exit._

_Near the brink of total disaster, a band of humans rose to seal alchemy. As pure bodies of alchemy, many djinn were targeted and slaughtered. There are other survivors besides us, but they hide well. Before the final seals were placed, the group captured a man. The worst offender of the entire human race. His soul was rent from his body and trapped, and he was cursed to guard the seal for eternity. The band of humans took to guarding Sol Sanctum. And, we all know how that story ends_.

They sat in silence, drinking it in, before Mia asked, "What happened to the rest of the Clans?"

Dew sighed. _Times were dangerous for all. Weyard was newly enfeebled, the land was unsettled as it was now, and there were still battles to be fought. With their power strained and weakened,_ _the Fire Clans reached a stalemate with Venus. They began to search for an upper-hand_. _And Mercury adepts were considered very useful commodities in war time._

Fizz watched the emotions flickering across Mia's face. Such a sensitive little creature, to feel so deeply for people she had never met. Fizz continued in Dew's stead. _The Fire Clans—I believe only Prox and a handful of small southern tribes existed at this point—enslaved Mercurian healers to supplement their armies. And it is that decision that ultimately led to the eradication of the Venus Clan, but at the cost of the southern fire tribes. With the war over, Prox slaughtered their remaining prisoners and retained those healthy enough to continue slave-work. Eventually, a handful escaped and found their way back home to the lighthouse._

Felix watched Mia from the corner of his eye. "When you were released, why did you choose to help us?"

_Some of us weren't allowed a choice_, Iron muttered.

Echo rolled its eyes. _As was mentioned. We are parallel to humans, and we possess free will as a human. We all have our own motivations for partaking in this quest._

_I disagree, _Fizz said, blithely ignoring the irritated sighs it earned.

Still with Mist in her arms, Mia asked, "On what, Fizz?"

_I do not believe any being has free will. Even the gods._

A pregnant pause. Then, an explosion of noise.

_Fizz_, Tonic snipped, _you're only searching for an excuse to pass off the responsibility for acting like such a bitter twat all the time._

_No, _Fizz bit back. _If you would rub the two brain cells you had together for more than five seconds, you would understand that free will cannot exist in the face of another being's omniscience_—

_Oh, you're singing to the choir, here!_

"Quiet." The requested silence fell at Felix's command. Fizz's body shook with restrained rage, so much so that Mia looked at it in alarm. "Please explain, Fizz."

_If there are ones who know all, does that not mean there is something to know? Everything is predetermined_. Fizz knew it shouldn't. Who was to know how many times this dilemma had arisen, and how many times Fizz had made the same choice? It couldn't remember what was or wasn't supposed to happen, only that it was happening. None of it mattered; the world would burn, and they would all be born into the same trench.

_I disagree, semantically speaking,_ Petra interjected mildly from Felix's shoulder. _Not necessarily predetermined; your future already exists. The future, past, and present exist together in a string of causal relations. You are not points on a line, you are a segment. You are the line. Space, time. They are tense-less artifacts of perspective. Time is an arrow, but it moves in a circle._

Mia and Felix stared in blank silence.

_You baffled them, Petra_, Echo mumbled.

_I see that. For the sake of argument, let us assume that yes, everything is predetermined._

"By the gods," Mia said.

_No. Something beyond the gods_.

"How can there be anything beyond the gods?" Something buzzed in their connection, a thread twanging in unease. Fizz felt sorry for doing that to her.

_There is a beginning to everything. Every action, every being_, Salt said.

"...The string of causal relations Petra mentioned. Every action is the result of a preceding action, and the chain had to have started somewhere. That's what you're getting at?"

_Precisely._

"And you deny it began with the gods?"

_Where did the gods come from, Mia?_ Tonic asked.

She and Felix stiffened. "The gods...they just are."

_Nothing 'just is', little one._

"How is that possible?"

_It is unknown to us. And if the gods themselves are aware of it, then they would not say so. They have forsaken us_.

Felix shook his head. "I chose to come and sit here of my own free will. Nothing required me to say yes."

Fizz glowered, unwilling to miss out on an opportunity to bother. _And why were you walking?_

"I was looking for Mia."

_And why were you looking for Mia?_

Felix took his time answering, noticeably uncomfortable. "I needed something."

_Why? _

"...I ignited the lighthouses."

Mia said his name softly, then frowned down at her lap. "Let him alone, Fizz."

"No," Felix snapped, startling her with his intensity. "And I lit the lighthouses in order to save Weyard and save my parents."

_There is a fundamental difference between motive and cause. Choice is an illusion._

"They were lit because Prox took my family hostage and threatened them with lifelong imprisonment."

_Correct_, Fizz said, dark and empty as the bottom of the sea.

"And I was held hostage after the storm because Alex informed the Proxians that they would require a Venus adept." Mist leapt away from Mia's limp hands.

_Yes._

The ground trembled. "And the storm happened because Vale repeatedly denied Prox a stage to discuss their concerns. And Prox came to Vale because they were on the brink of destruction. And they were on the brink of destruction because alchemy was sealed. Alchemy was sealed because of Weyard's depravity. And Weyard became depraved because the gods were inattentive and naive."

_Yes._

_Control yourself,_ Echo warned over a low roar.

"And what then?" Felix seethed. "The gods created everything on a whim?"

_That we do not know_.

"I've made decisions during my life. Do you know how many times I wanted to give up and end it?" In its innumerable years of living, Fizz would never see a more stricken look than the one Mia was giving Felix. "And yet you sit here and say I never had that option."

_Felix,_ Iron said. _Remain sovereign over your temper._

_You are familiar with the Shaman rod? _Fizz continued recklessly.

"Yes," Felix gritted out.

"Fizz, really…"

_Then you should be aware of the mechanics underscoring it. Do you have the faintest notion of how many moving parts went into that damned stick falling into the hands of the Anemian? Do you not recall that this was one prophecy in hundreds that played out exactly as it was foretold? _

_Are we not the same? Are we not particles juxtaposed next to other particles, awaiting an action that will spur our own? The Jupiter adepts have had their trajectory blatantly prescribed, and you traced out your own. All of it can be drawn back to the gods, and if one had the proper faculties, even further than them. Did they know, thousands upon thousands of years ago, that you would come to us here on this day? If the history of Weyard was allowed to play over and over again, would we still end up in this place, at this time?_

_Fizz_, Echo said crisply. _Your tongue is far too loose for one with so little power._

_You lack perspective, adept_, Fizz spat. _We exist on a flat landscape. Everything—your past, your present, your future, and everyone else's—is laid out around you as points on a map. Because you lack perspective, they are hidden from you by valleys and hills. You are everywhere, in every second between your birth and death. Your past lingers behind you. Your future is already here. It is just out of reach._

Felix flew to his feet, Mia on his heels. "I am not going to be told that the sole reason I exist is to be a tool for everyone else's salvation," he snarled, face twisted up in rage and fear. "That I am a puppet used to solve a problem I did not create."

The ground cracked, and the water trembled. The djinn jumped away from the display of raw, aggressive energy, shouting for him to control himself.

But, Mia didn't raise her voice or spring away in fear. She didn't say a word. Instead, she gripped his arm, firm, but gentle. Felix jolted, eyes frantic and dark. Imploring him to calm down with her own, Mia brought her other hand up to his shoulder and waited with steady, eternal patience. The effect was delayed, but Felix's eyes eventually slid shut, and the breath left his body in a pained exhale. Then, he reached out and hugged Mia to him so tightly she squeaked. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him bury his face in the crook of her shoulder.

They stood like that for a long time. Slow and deliberate, Mia twisted to regard Fizz with cold disapproval in her eyes. To its credit, Fizz wilted. Desperate to maintain the soothed atmosphere, Mia derailed their topic. "That wasn't where I had hoped…" She closed her eyes. "I was going to ask if you wanted to leave."

_Leave? _Fizz reiterated.

Mia shrugged as Felix released her, and called the other djinn from where they had resumed playing in the pond.

_Five more minutes! _Sleet pouted.

"No more minutes."

When the djinn gathered as requested, Mia was unable to look at them. "You're free—you can pretend you make your own decisions. I was thinking you might like to go off and explore or...do whatever djinn do."

Felix looked to his own djinn, significantly more relaxed. "We don't require your services very often…"

_You're releasing us?_ Sleet asked, sounding small.

Mia shrugged again, eyelashes fluttering. "If you think that's something you would like."

_It could be, _Mist said. _But when we are contracted to an adept, your word is law. You must decree it for it to be so._

"Oh."

_Do not feel obligated_, Fizz said. Mist shuffled from foot to foot. _Feel free to make your desire more obvious, abortive insect._

"Then I...I'm giving you permission to leave," Mia said in a hushed, fragile voice.

Nine pairs of canary eyes stared back at her. A few separated themselves from the rest. Dew spoke from before Mist, Spritz, and Hail. _I speak on behalf of all of us when I say this parting is nothing personal. We are glad to have journeyed with you, Mia. _Dew's knowing eyes cut over to Fizz. _Please expect to see us from time to time._

Without another word, the djinn departed in orbs of sombre blue light. Each detachment was felt physically in the communal link, like they had pulled an irreplaceable piece away. Mia watched them for as long as she could, arms crossed, jaw working. Fizz and the remaining djinn set themselves to her in an effort to soothe.

"We'll discuss this later," Felix mumbled to his own djinn. He stepped forward, a trifle hesitant, and took his time gathering Mia into his arms. She went rigid at the contact, and placed her hands on his chest to push, but softened when he lingered. "It was the kind thing to do," he reassured. "I expected nothing less from you."

Though she didn't speak aloud, Mia's voice was so soft Fizz almost missed it. _I'm surprised, Fizz._ _I thought for sure you would be the one to go. There was a reason I called for you specifically._

_And why would you think that?_

_You act so miserable all the time...I know you're not necessarily like a human, but nothing should be miserable._

_I am not miserable. I am fine where I am._

_And are you here because that is what you believe, or do you stay so you can labor under the illusion that you are powerless to choose?_

_I am not the one who is deluded_. The surly, off-putting tone served its intended effect, and Mia went silent for a time.

_Fizz…_

_What?_

_If it really wasn't our choice, then why do I feel so guilty?_

_The space you give yourself to grow is inadequate. You throttle yourself before you reach the surface_, Fizz berated without edge. _Most people would leap at the chance to shed responsibility. But not you. Why?_

_I...I cannot say_. Mia was quiet once more, and Fizz watched her give in to the pool of black waiting behind her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **I don't enjoy expanding on canon because I feel like I'm doing it wrong, but here we are. Hopefully this content (space-time, reincarnation) offered some explanation for the non-linear plot. If not, let's put a pin in that.

This seems like a good time to mention that reincarnation as it is portrayed here is not "see you in another lifetime/love transcending time". Rather, it draws from Nietzsche's eternal recurrence in _The Gay Science_. It will be featured more prominently in later chapters, or if you cared to notice, in the prologue and some of Fizz's earlier dialogue. Among others.

Have a great ass day.


	8. VII: Dew::Only the Rain

**One** scene will seem a bit sitcom-y, but it is unfortunately based in real life. More after the chapter.

* * *

_Chapter Seven_

only the rain  
/DEW/

One hundred forty-two seconds. That was how long it took for the first drop to hit the ground.

The sky swathed itself in steely gray. Wisps of fog hung low and heavy, sweeping and curling over wooded hills like smoke. The river warred with its banks. Rain echoed throughout the wide basin, beating its tattoo upon the ground. Water trailed down her face, dribbled from her unbound hair, raced off her fingertips. Petrichor filled her nose, made her dizzy from trying to inhale it all at once. Her skin was comfortably numb.

By the time her djinn began to jitter with anticipation, Mia had long picked up on the approach of a familiar presence. Head cocked back to look at all the gray in the sky, she said nothing as Felix squelched to her side. He said nothing either, though clearly displeased with the rain. She took pity and used her psynergy to gift him an umbrella, favoring him with a warm look when finished. He accepted the invitation and sidled closer.

"I love the rain," she mumbled through the downpour. "It strips everything away."

Felix remained silent, content to let her chatter to herself.

The taiga's harrowingly long, dry winters always gave way to warm, wet bursts of summer. When the rains came, her father took her to the ocean. They would trek past the lighthouse, to the sheer cliffs, to the place where water embraced sky. There, they would watch the ocean churn, listen to waves smash into rock, revel in the spray thrown hundreds of feet upwards into their faces. They were Mercury adepts, but rain was always so much more than rain. It was nature's metaphor for fragility. Even the sky broke down and wept.

The universal language of the world. Untempered, uninhibited, indomitable, and in no need of translation. It blended with their tears, coated them with solidarity and understanding. A blanket to muffle everything out and make things a little more tolerable. Mia raised both hands, palms skyward as if in benediction. There was no ocean to see near Vale, but this river met with one somewhere. She wondered if her father knew she had created an ocean for them.

Blinking the hair from her eyes, Mia dropped her hands and turned to Felix. His dark eyes peered out from under a sheet of blackened hair, reserved, but probing. Offhandedly, she wondered if she was as enigmatic to him as he was to her. "You've been difficult to pin down. I didn't…" His voice was rough from the weather.

"I'm sorry. I've been busy."

Felix faced the river with heavy consideration before shifting subtly closer. "Will you be busy later?"

Unable to decide if she wanted him closer or further away, Mia folded her hands. "Possibly."

"Can I come by, in any case?" He wouldn't quite meet her eyes when she looked up in surprise.

Mia ducked her head when she failed to smother a warm, full smile. "If it's not too much trouble…"

"If it was too much trouble, I wouldn't have asked."

"...That'd be nice, then."

;; ;;

;; ;; ;;

Hair soaked in cold rain, Mia occupied the end of a frontmost pew and devised a worksheet of dosage calculations to test the apprentices with. Between the fog in her head and chatting with people that came to pray, she was having a horrible time concentrating. And while she did her best to keep a short memory with the more surly villagers, the wrong faces could send her cringing against the stone, throwing her off completely. Before transcending the apex of frustration, she allowed herself a few minutes to doodle on the backside of a few pages.

"Miss Mi—uh, Mia?" One of the apprentices thrust her head from a small treatment room. "Would you mind taking a look at this, please?"

"Of course." Mia floated to the room and came between the two apprentices, completing the bewildered semicircle around the patient. On the woman's forearm festered an oozing lesion. Mia introduced herself, marshaling her expression with a smile when the smell hit her nose. "How did this come about, Lua?"

"Burned myself on the stove." She watched Mia gingerly examine her wound.

"How long ago?"

The other apprentice, Jacob, stepped closer. "Three weeks ago."

"Was it severe?"

Lua shook her head. "Not at all."

"That is odd," remarked Mia, "that it would become necrotic. We're going to need to debride it before healing."

At her implied command, Jacob turned to secure the necessary tools for the procedure. "That's what we're stuck on. She says she's been treating it—"

"Twice a day," Lua chirped.

Mia accepted a moist cloth and began to clean the wound with great care. "Do you or your family have any history of illness?"

"Not that I know of."

Calling on her psynergy, Mia examined Lua's arms for evidence of circulatory or neurological issues. Nothing jumped out at her.

"It doesn't make sense." Jacob sterilized an obsidian blade with flames from the tips of his thumb and forefinger. "She's young and otherwise healthy. There's nothing to explain the poor wound healing."

Mia sighed. "I'm sorry to say, but you may have bigger troubles than your wound."

Lua's eyes went wide. "Is it bad?"

"If it is bad, we'll take care of you." Mia finished cleaning the area, resisting the urge to rub her nose at the irritating smell. "What did you say you had been treating this with?"

"An ointment."

Mia caught Jacob's eye from the corner of her own. "From the sanctum," she concluded, though she had no recollection of treating Lua.

"No."

"The apothecary?"

"No."

"From where, then?" Mia asked over Jacob's quiet groan.

"From home."

"What exactly is it?"

Lua shrugged, perturbed by the interrogation. "Butter."

Silence and dismay swallowed the room. Mia dropped her eyes to the floor. Jacob leaned forward with intent. "Did it sizzle when you first applied it?"

The other apprentice snorted, and Jacob hissed when Mia discreetly pressed a freezing palm to the back of his neck. "Oh," she said tightly. "I understand."

Despite being the recipient of a thorough scolding, Lua left the sanctum with a smile and a bandaged arm. Jacob leaned against the altar as Mia resumed her notes. "Looks like her arm definitely isn't her biggest cause for concern."

"Be nice."

"You expect me to be kind when we heal every variety of imbecile and degenerate in here?"

"You never know what you yourself will become, dear Jacob."

"Spoken with wisdom."

At the gravelly voice, Mia rose and mimicked Jacob in folding her hands and bowing her head in respect. The Great Healer hobbled to Jacob and stood obnoxiously close. "You loiter. Why?"

"Yes, Uncle." Jacob skulked off.

The Great Healer beckoned with a rubbery hand. "Over here, little bird." He led her to the back corner of the sanctum where they settled into a derelict pew. His drooping brows twitched as his eyes shifted about. "Did you bring them?" he asked, hushed.

Looking cautiously around, Mia snuck a hand into her robes and palmed him a small, brown square. His face lit up in delight.

"Dahlia didn't let me have these for decades! I reckon I'm so old now, a little candy won't do any harm." He stuffed the package into his robes and was immediately sober. "And how are our apprentices?"

"Quite well. Jacob and Kamakea perform well under heavier workloads, so I'm thinking of separating them and having them do rotations with the other three."

"Fair. Have you placed the orders with the Xianese traders in Vault?"

"I have. And I apologize for not asking beforehand, but I went short on a few things. After going over expenses, I was afraid we might not be able to afford all that we needed."

"I trust your judgment. No trouble with the elders after last week's episode?"

"No, sir."

"Fair, fair. Now, one more thing." He swivelled in the pew to face her, eyes hidden beneath his brows. "If I stay here for what remains of the day, would you be available this afternoon?"

Mia clenched her teeth and released. "I would be. Grandchildren?"

"Yes, thank you." The Great Healer briefly tilted his head back to observe the cherubs and gods carved into the stone ceiling. "It appears I lied. One more thing." He met her eyes with a rare lucidity. "Will you tell me what the matter is?"

"...Pardon?"

"Will you tell me what's been bothering you?"

The corner of Mia's mouth pulled up in a gentle, albeit confused smile. "Why do you assume something has been bothering me?"

"There's no need for you to say it. It's in your eyes."

She fumbled for words. "Ah...I suppose I'm a bit tired."

"Then get some sleep."

"It's not like that."

"Then what's it like?"

"I don't think it's the kind of tired sleep can fix."

The Great Healer nodded and struggled up to his feet, eyes dark beneath his snowy brows. "There's a shadow on you. Seek refuge where you find it."

;; ;;

;; ;; ;;

"Isn't she precious?"

"..."

Mia lay in bed with feet on the wall and baby held overhead. Felix lay perpendicular to her on his stomach, chin propped on his folded arms. He spooked when Sorrel jammed her fist into her toothless mouth and screeched. Grinning, Mia placed Sorrel on the bed, swatting at her waving feet to make her squall. "How can you not think she's cute?"

Felix's lips parted to answer, but a sharp giggle cut him off. Ivar's big green eyes peeked around the bed frame.

"Hey, you. Did you have a nice nap?"

With an enthusiastic nod, Ivar stepped closer, upper body devoid of clothing. In a surprisingly calculated movement, he dropped his shorts. His tiny fingers hooked around his cloth diaper.

"No," Mia chided, stern, but soft. "No naked babies."

"Clothes!"

"Clothes?"

"I don't have clothes!"

"You took your clothes off. Do you want them on?"

He generated a noise that sounded consensual.

"Bring your shorts over here, I'll help you." She scooted Sorrel closer to Felix before kneeling on the floor. "Watch this baby."

Felix snorted when Ivar slapped his hands to the top of Mia's head for stability. "You understand what he's saying?"

"Sometimes all you can do is smile and nod." When she finished buttoning his shorts, Ivar advertised he wanted to play by smacking her upside the head. Without missing a beat, Mia seized him and launched him onto the bed.

Felix's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his lips twitched with a suppressed smile. "Rough, much?"

"This is all he likes to do," she managed before Ivar attempted an aerial assault and leapt into her arms. They kept it to the ground, with Mia pinning him down and rolling him around, Ivar screaming and laughing and offering futile resistance, and Sorrel shrieking encouragement. Combat was concluded when Ivar grabbed a fistful of Mia's hair and made an honest attempt to scalp her.

"Enough stalling." A little out of breath, Mia flopped onto bed, scooped Sorrel up, and presented her to Felix. "It's time."

Felix stared. Sorrel stared. Mia sighed.

"C'mon," she coaxed, faintly vexatious. "She bites. But, she doesn't have any teeth, so she kind of slobbers all over you."

"Delightful."

"I'm glad we can agree." Sorrel reached up to yank the long strands of hair framing Mia's face. "Ow—! Now, someone once told me to 'get over it', and 'don't be afraid of it'—"

"Alright, alright," Felix muttered, pushing into a sit. One leg swung back and forth over the edge of the mattress, and he kept his hands on his knees.

Mia proffered Sorrel. "It's okay. I trust you. And I won't let anything happen."

"Please don't use that voice with me."

"What voice?"

"Your overly-earnest patient voice."

"Take the baby, Felix."

He held her eyes for a few heartbeats, settling his nerves before reaching out to accept the offering. His hands froze. "Do I need to support her head?"

"No, no. She's old enough." With painstaking care, Sorrel was passed to the cradle of Felix's arms. "They lurch around a lot, so hold her to your chest—see? You've got it."

Felix looked upon the baby with rapture. The murmur of an astonished laugh passed his lips. "She's so small."

Mia chuckled under her breath. "It's ridiculous how tiny they are."

"Was Jenna this small? I only remember a little of when she was a baby." Sorrel, who fit snugly into the length of Felix's forearm, threw out her hands to investigate his tunic, breathing heavily all the while. "She feels...off."

"They're a little top heavy, aren't they?"

"Yeah, that's it."

Sorrel jabbed a hand at Felix's face, fingers yearning for his nose. Instead of letting her latch on, Felix offered an index finger. She grabbed onto it, cooing and smiling. The tip of his finger filled her entire hand.

Felix's face split into a big, dopey smile. Something about it made Mia want to laugh, not for its amusement, but because it was a lovely thing to witness. A buzzing, quiet ball of energy sat between her lungs, and her face hurt from smiling. Emboldened, she shifted to press lightly into Felix's arm. He made no offer to resent the action, and even angled towards her, opening up while he interacted with Sorrel. He felt different. His body was absent its constant tension. Sorrel had stripped some heaviness away from him, like sodden moss off a roof.

On a whim, Mia indulged herself to a foray into an ambiguous future. One with whispered vows, her stomach rounded with her own child, old wicker chairs on porches. One where she could grow up and get old with a family of her own, a family she would give everything to.

An entirely innocent line of thought, and still something went wrong. The train ran off its well-worn tracks and spiralled into the abyss of her mind. A candle snuffed. Nails placed with precision on the stairs she sought to climb. The edges of her smile crumbled. The life in her died back. Mia went silent, dull, and drew away from Felix.

Pensive, he watched as she curled onto her hip, idle fingers shaping a few loose threads in her quilt. "What?"

"Nothing," she murmured, guilty for spoiling the moment. Feeling like she should hook her fingers into the corners of her mouth to smile for him, Mia regained some of her posture under false pretense. "A little tired, is all."

Felix, to no one's astonishment, was unconvinced, but accepted the lie.

After feeding the children, they arranged themselves on the sofa. Sorrel snoozed in Felix's arms, and Mia held Ivar as he drifted in and out of sleep.

"Is there an impending shortage I should be aware of?"

Blinking out of a reverie, Mia responded to Felix's question with her eyes.

He inclined his chin to the mug in her hand. "You've been inhaling all of your tea."

She brought the cup to her lips. "I happen to like tea." At least, she hoped that was still the case. It had been tasting of aluminum as of late.

"Come to think of it…" Felix trailed, and Mia sagged against the sofa, waiting for him to find his words. "I can't remember the last time I've seen you eat something."

Leaning with caution to avoid disturbing Ivar, Mia placed her mug on the end table. "I've been fasting."

"Why?"

"There's something wrong with my nerves." She snuggled Ivar close, and he wrapped sleepy arms around her.

"So you're starving yourself," Felix intoned, sounding more than a little unimpressed.

"Yes," Mia deadpanned. "And if it has no effect, I'll attempt bloodletting. And if that doesn't do the trick, I fully intend on performing an exorcism."

He remained unamused. "How long?"

"Two days from now makes a week, and then I'm finished." When concern bloomed across his sharp features, she tacked on, "It's not so bad. I've never had much of an appetite, anyways. I hardly notice."

"For someone so kind, you are very cruel to yourself." He frowned in grave disapproval. "Well…"

Half a minute ticked by. "What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"If you're suffering...is the fast working?"

Mia gave him a tight smile. "I think so."

Felix looked down into her eyes, and she was taken aback at the openness on his face. "What do you mean, with your nerves? Like you've got the morbs?"

"Uhm. You've had a psynergy block put on you before, right?"

He nodded once.

"It's a bit like that...something is missing, and something has gone wrong, but I can't tell what. There's this distance, and I don't know how to reconcile it. It's like I'm separate from myself and the rest of the world, sometimes."

Felix nodded again, clearly wanting to offer support, but ultimately coming up stumped.

The Great Healer's words still in mind, Mia began sifting through her head. Fizz was the grumpiest little creature she had ever known, but it was her knowledgeable, trusted companion. _What is it now?_

_Do you understand what's happening to me? I feel...unlike myself._

Fizz was silent for so long Mia assumed it was ignoring her.

_I have seen it before. I am sorry._

Her heart went soft at its tone. _Why are you sorry, Fizz? You didn't do anything wrong_.

_Do not waste time fussing over it. You are young. You are resilient. It will come to pass._

Understanding that Fizz would provide no further input, Mia resigned herself to not knowing. The alley between her ears was one she was quickly learning to avoid.

The rain tapping on the window effortlessly stole her attention. In combination with her hunger and exhaustion, Ivar's head against her breast, and Felix's warmth beside her, she found herself dozing off. When she registered fabric against her face, she jolted upright with a small, distressed noise. "Sorry," she mumbled, scrubbing her eyes with a free hand.

"I don't mind."

"I know you don't appreciate being touched, anyway. You went tense."

"I didn't want to move and wake you up," Felix admitted sheepishly.

Mia smiled a bit, and they lapsed back to silence. The next thing to pass through her conscious was the stiff swell of vertigo as her head dipped with sleep. Felix's shoulders jerked in amusement. "Why do you make everything so difficult? Let yourself sleep."

"It's the middle of the day. And I'm supposed to be looking after the children."

"I'll watch them while you nap."

"I appreciate the offer, but no."

Felix sighed. "You're being ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous."

"Go to sleep, Mia."

Though halfway to delirium, she remained stubbornly awake until the children went home.

* * *

**If it can crawl, it can brawl.** (Roughhousing with kids encourages neural development/emotional intelligence, fun fact for the day.)

It's a popular misconception that Imil lies in the tundra. It does not. This is proven by the trees in the surrounding area. Tundra has an abbreviated growing season that does not allow for trees to thrive; this is evident in Tundaria if you disregard the trees in the battle sequences. And if you don't, it can be said that Weyard has no tundra. Imil would therefore be in a boreal forest/taiga biome.

So. Yes. It is a thing for people to put butter on burns. What I wrote, while intended to be light-hearted, was based off a time we treated a young dog with a necrotic lesion along his back and shoulder (a child in the household spilled scalding water on him by accident). If that infuriates you, it should, because we had to euthanize due to sepsis. That job wrecked my soul before I even graduated high school.


	9. VIII: Dewdrop::Leech

_Chapter Eight_

leech  
/DEWDROP/

He woke early, as always.

The world was gray, and the sky was black. While he was far from home honing his abilities, the enemy was only starting their fire and warming their hands.

Gravity relinquished ubiquitous control. Great pieces of earth ascended to the sky as if the heavens called the ground back to it. A honeyed glow coated their silhouettes, so faint it did not mark its presence in the air. Earth crashed against earth like meteors from the depths of space. The roar echoed for miles around.

Hot brands of ancient steel met at a deadly intersection. He tore fissures in the earth as simply as a seamstress splits clothing. He moved with confidence and precision, sword swinging like the beat of dragon wings.

Unmitigated discipline was his priority. Every fiber, tendon, and muscle he calibrated to the finest degree. Weakness was not accepted, and no exemptions were tolerated. His body and mind were weapons he used to protect himself and those under his care.

When the trees were black cuts against a navy sky, he polished his blade, sheathed it, and walked.

If he wasn't training, he was wandering. He had taken to wandering for hours, days, worn by sorrow and fear, eyes burning with resentment and confusion. If he was not permitted to wander with his feet, he wandered within his mind. Space and freedom were ideals held in the highest regard. Every echo of his boots upon the ground took him farther from familiar comforts, and he understood that one day he would wander too far and lose sight of them entirely. But, it was between the echoes that he was finding himself.

And so, the wilderness became paradise.

Today, however, he had a destination. Djinn melded to his body, heightening his tolerance, refining dusty senses. Birds shattered the still morning for the transient dawn song as he slipped into cold water. With deep, even breaths, he swam around the pond until his shuddering heart and mind fell in line, releasing fear and thereby liberating himself from it. The storm of terror he counteracted with his own storm. Conquering it was right by himself. For three years he had lived entombed in ice, and now that he was free, he would ensure he was very well _free_. The gales from his storm would rend their own path and leave the enemy choking for air.

When the sky hedged pink, and haze filled the low spaces between trees, he marched home.

A tangle of vines crawled up the side of the house. He climbed deftly up, sighing aloud when he came face-to-face with his own reflection and a stiff curtain. Eyes closed, he pinpointed the life force centered within the room. It hummed with the slow contentment of sleep. Two others moved on the floor beneath. Satisfied, he dropped to the ground and walked again.

The tiny house was blessedly warm upon entry. He slipped his boots off and placed them meticulously by the door, as per the ordinance of the household. Little blue lights dispersed from his body, and he watched them float to Mia.

The sheets on the bed were pristine, and she was passed out at her desk. Fizz glared sullenly from a stack of medical texts; the djinni was forever staunch in its refusal to accompany him, and Mia never had the heart to force the issue. She didn't budge in the flurry of activity as djinn returned to their respective adepts. Refreshed and mindful of Fizz's watchful gaze, Felix crept across the house. In spite of the painful-looking position, Mia looked so sweet as she slept. A young girl that never had any harm done to her, never known a bit of stress. He considered moving her to where she would be more comfortable, but decided to let her be.

Fizz's yellow eyes trailed as he slid a thin journal away from its brethren. His hand paused, eyes drifting to a water-damaged ring. In a rare moment of solidarity, he and Fizz exchanged muted glances.

Mia's handwriting, as it turned out, was reasonably legible when she put effort into it. Felix handled the journal gingerly, keeping his thumbs away from the ink while sifting through the tired pages. Though it was certainly a byproduct of his relentless probing irritating her half to death, he would forever be shocked that she had offered these up to him. It was the most intimate expression of trust he had ever received.

When her father died, a widower suggested writing everything down, no matter what it happened to be. This journal was one of many in a series. On the first pages were her father's final days. Then, it was like she desperately spilled everything she could remember onto the paper. The six jokes he liked to tell, his steady hands, the look he got in his eye when he was tending the garden. An awful lot about the lighthouse, the ocean, flowers, sandcastles, and butterflies. Long, rambling notes. Letters she could never send. The musings ascended to something more spiritual by the end, where she scribbled all her mistakes and regrets in that hard-handed, black ink.

Here in his designated spot on the sofa, the wall was at his back, and the door and windows sat in plain view. Guarding was second nature, but he was still tired, and dozed despite his best efforts. He dreamt little when he slept. Winter in grayscale. Cold slithering beneath skin and cracking bones. Black, craggy chimneys. Proud flags of no nation torn to pieces by the wind. Wallowing in snow. The apathetic lighthouse watching them suffer and die.

Churning water, disembodied screams, pressure in his ears and behind the eyes. Thick algae sliding down throat and nose. Blind, stupid, flailing panic.

Water rushing into his lungs and stomach, filling them like overwrought balloons. His chest heaved. Nothing came but excruciating pain. There was pressure around his shoulder. Terror addled his brain. He lashed out, scrabbling for something, anything he was going to _die_—

A cool palm settled against his face. Felix gasped sharply, eyes snapping open, muscles bunched in preparation for defense.

"Hey." The quietest sound. Soft like down on a dove. "You're safe."

Mia's thumb brushed over his cheek, settling him further, and she waited patiently while he collected himself. He took several shaky, greedy breaths. At his sharp nod, her hand slid from his face, and she stepped away to give him space. Still a touch perturbed, his eyes landed on a steaming mug and warm plate of food on the coffee table. Mia sighed and handed him breakfast. Stomach filling with good food and a warm body curled against him, Felix congratulated himself for whatever string of decisions led him to this moment in time.

"What're you doing over here all by yourself, maverick?" Mia asked as he finished up.

He swiped a hand over the back of his mouth. "I came—thank you." He accepted the napkin jabbed in his direction. "You were sleeping…" Felix craned his head to frown at the bright square of a window. "You don't sleep this late."

"Hn," she supplied, pillowing her head against his shoulder.

He scowled at the top of her head. "Have you eaten?"

She took a half-second too long to respond, and he worried she would lie. The joy and sorrow of getting to know someone so well. Her inclination to tell half-truths (or flat out lies) to save others grief was something he once found endearing. Now, though, he wished she could be honest with him. "No, I haven't."

"Did you make enough for yourself?"

"I'm not very hungry." At his firm silence, she stuck out her pinky and added, "Later. Promise."

Felix wrapped his pinky around hers in the highest binding pact known to man. Looking at their interlocked fingers, he marvelled at how small she was, how much of her could fit into his hand. She was built like a little bird. Sometimes he feared she might fly away. "You're obviously not reporting to the sanctum...what did you want to do today?"

Mia slouched a little. "Oh, nothing in particular. Did you have anything?"

For the second time that morning, Felix glowered at the top of her head. "Someone once told me that sulking around all day is the cardinal sin."

"Who said that?" she gasped, tone floored by mock-disbelief.

"You'll go ballistic if we don't find you something to do." He bumped her with his shoulder, asking her to look at him. "Are you not feeling well?"

Despite the innocuous question, something odd happened. Shadows pooled in her eyes, ink in water, and she went somewhere else for a moment. It made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to see that.

"I'm fine, sorry." Her lips twitched, struggling to smile for him.

"Sorry?"

"For acting off. I'll be better, I promise."

Felix nodded in solemn acceptance, and Mia went to clear the dishes. _Echo_.

The djinni's rumbling voice filled his brain. _Yes_.

_How does she feel to you? When you're with her?_

Echo gave its answer long consideration. _She feels heavy_.

Watching her walk around looking so defeated, Felix agreed on the notion. All of her poise was gone. The effortless grace with which she moved was a thing not seen in months. Her eyes were lukewarm at best. And still so genial with everyone, with her heart so guarded. _Perhaps I will do as Piers said._

_What Piers said was for your own benefit. Please let that be your only point of contention._

_It is, but..._

The first thing Felix truly noticed about Mia was her concern for his life. Even though she seemed eternally busy, she had a way of making it seem like he was her priority. Always ensuring he was safe and comfortable with gentle, generous hands. It made him feel important. It inspired him to be better. She was his olive branch. And with her kindness, she was unwittingly giving him the tools to leave her.

Felix leaned back to stare at the grainy ceiling. He should have spoken to Piers more, before he took Sheba to Contigo. Of course he could have gone with them, but their paths were not meant to cross for long. Piers had his maps, Sheba searched for a thing she had never known, and Felix looked to recover something he lost a long time ago. Odysseys best partaken in solitude.

Mia sat delicately next to him, fingers pruned from dish water. "Were you still tired?"

He nodded once.

"Want to pick this time?"

When he wandered back with a book in hand, Mia had shrouded herself head to toe in a blanket. He tapped her nose as he sat. "Little nun."

She eyed the cover with a raised brow. "Mephistopheles again, huh?"

Felix grabbed hold of her feet and placed them across his legs so she could stretch out, and Mia tilted the book so her eyes were visible over the cover. They were close enough he could see all the fleeting contractions in her pupils. She really did have beautiful eyes, so pale and sensitive and expressive. "Yes?"

She looked away with a nervous swallow, seeming to shrink in on herself. A full minute of tense silence elapsed before she whispered, "You said you would be back a month ago."

"I know."

Her eyes darted to his in a quick glance—_that_ look, like she expected to never see him again—before she pulled the book up and began to read. With that soothing, level voice, Mia could put the worst insomniac to sleep if she spoke long enough.

Comfortable and already about to doze, Felix watched her read. Wistful eyes flicking across the pages, the faint lift of slender shoulders as she breathed. The emerging cadence as she fell into the rhythm of the story. In his state of semi-consciousness, her voice remained, but the words morphed to tell a different tale. One more personal.

_If I woke early enough, and I wasn't too tired, I'd sneak into his room and lay in his bed until we had to prepare for the day. He never rejected me, even as I grew older. He'd be groggy, and his eyes would stay shut, but he always reached over to pat my hand._

"_I'm still here, love," he would say._

_And then, he wasn't._


	10. IX: Surge::Maybe Tomorrow

_Chapter Nine_

maybe tomorrow  
/SURGE/

"Think you'll be heading back to Champa once you're through here?"

"It's on the list, certainly." Piers rubbed his cracked, lined hands together.

Felix squinted a judgmental eye. "Out of all the pirates you've befriended, you've still probably done the most jail time."

"...Probably."

They were sitting up on a bald face of earth that had sent more than a few tweaked wrists and rolled ankles Mia's way. Their djinn roamed around, bored and loud as could be, but their activity seemed lackluster in light of her missing ones. She was still unaccustomed to their absence, and fretted incessantly over them. Fizz, ever covetous of isolation, occupied its designated spot in her hood. Sleet fussed about in her lap, and Geode snuggled into her side, eyes closed to rest.

When Piers was around, Mia preferred to listen more than speak. He was dignified. He was fascinating. Even when he was grumping about all his fresh maps already in need of redefinition. Likewise, she enjoyed watching Felix interact with Piers. It was a different kind of lively than the one Jenna wrought out of him, or even Isaac or Garet. He and Piers shared a close mentality, one that drew them together like brothers, closer, even. While she had been invited to sit with them, Mia still felt like an intruder.

A screech soared into the humid air, beginning on a high note and climbing several higher, where it persisted for some seconds. Piers tensed, brow furrowed. "Have you been seeing Pteranodons near Vale?"

"No," Felix said. "Pretty sure that was Jenna. Sheba and Ivan must be back."

Two more unintelligible shrieks rang out. Mia rose bonelessly to her feet. "Yep. They're here."

An hour later, everyone had crammed into Jenna and Felix's home for an impromptu celebration. Tasks were given and rotated out at random, the door swung on its hinges like a thing possessed, and it was general mayhem.

Per tradition, the girls packed together and went about cleaning the house and prepping food with Piers and Kraden's assistance. Garet, a good cook himself, did not make an appearance near the food in observance of his lifetime ban from the kitchen. Instead, he helped deliver extra tables and chairs from his own home.

"Jenna," he shouted as he ran out the door. Back in the dining room, Jenna had no intent on heralding the call. Mia and Sheba threw curious glances her way.

"He'll just tell me to shut up." When this did nothing to satiate them, she huffed and raised her voice. "_What_—?"

"_Shut up!_"

"Told you." Jenna turned back to the task at hand, which involved folding napkins in some snobby fashion so they stood upright. Despite the fact that virtually no one would appreciate the effort, she had been clear that their first official reunion would be sublime. "Slow it down, Sheba, or you'll make a mistake."

"You're a mistake."

"Bite me. Not literally—! Are you planning on sticking around for the solstice festival, or what?"

Sheba's bright eyes cut left. Mia hiked a brow. "Spoke to Piers about Contigo already, huh?"

In lieu of a verbal response, Sheba threw her hands up, wailing apologies as Jenna tried to inflict irreparable damage on her with the napkins they had so carefully folded. Mia watched the beating for an unimpressed moment before resuming her duties without comment.

Sheba and Ivan had not grown a hair's breadth, and the same look was still etched into the purple of her eyes. A look Mia knew all too well. Sheba would always be their little waif; the lines in her expression were baseless, hungry, lacking in the security Ivan boasted. With a sorrow that was almost unconscious, Mia understood that she would not be seeing much of Sheba in the coming years.

Kraden stuck his frizzled head around the kitchen wall. "Girls, a little help?"

"Of course." Mia drifted over, leaving Jenna and Sheba squalling on the floor. With the exception of a few random vegetables in need of slicing, Kraden and Piers had nearly finished with supper, so she handled some auxiliary cleaning and helped Piers dish the food.

Not two minutes had elapsed when a yelp broke out, signalling Kraden had sliced his finger. He turned wordlessly to Mia, who crossed her arms and leaned a hip into the counter.

"I don't work for free."

Kraden balked, thoroughly convinced by her monotone delivery and deadpan stare. "I didn't bring any—" A flash of white cut him off. "I see..." She swatted him away with her dish rag.

Though she did not eavesdrop, she was sensitive to the shifting tones in Jenna and Sheba's conversation. And when Sheba spoke in what was supposed to be a lowered voice, Mia would have heard whether or not she was paying attention. "Hey, are you guys feeding Mia?"

"I _know_—you haven't seen her in two years and you noticed! Isaac and Garet think she's fine, and Felix is Felix so he doesn't answer when I ask."

"Figures. It's hard to tell through her robes, I guess, but I can see it in her face."

"That's what my mom's been saying. And you know Mia, always working or up to something. Eats like a little bird. I don't know if she can keep both those habits up."

The front door opened with a resounding bang. Looking for all the world like he was assigned a task of life or death, Felix ghosted into the dining room with extra dishes, punctuated by Sheba demanding, "Who invited you?"

Their subsequent chatter provided giddy ambiance to the sizzle of food and clanging of silverware. Mia tugged self-consciously at her clothes. She had already been wearing her sash tighter. Maybe it was time to stop procrastinating and hem up her robes after all.

Glass shattered in the other room. Bickering started up on behalf of Jenna and Felix.

"What was that?" their mother hollered from upstairs.

"Jenna broke something," Felix called back. A tight smack reverberated through the house, followed by a few hissed words and laughter.

Next to Mia, Piers rolled his eyes, more bemused than aggravated, and together they juggled several ungainly platters of food to bring to the table. Coming around the corner, they were greeted with the sight of Felix's mother squishing his cheeks between her fussy hands. Grumpy lump that he was, Felix's face retained its stoicism, but his eyes betrayed amusement and mirth. With a force simultaneously stern and gentle, his mother turned his whole head to Mia. "Isn't he handsome?" she cooed.

"The most handsomest," Mia drawled, struggling to contain her laughter when Felix's mirth melted to mortification.

"Mia!" Sheba admonished. "How can you say that when Piers is right there?"

At Garet and Ivan's desperate insistence, the meal was conducted without preamble. A few tables had been spliced in the dining area, their union hidden by a patchwork of mismatched tablecloths. Kraden sat at one end, Piers at the other. Felix, Mia, Garet, and Ivan occupied one side. Jenna surrounded herself with Isaac and Sheba on the other.

The gods must have looked the other way that evening, as nothing was spilled while dishes were passed in a surfeit of warmth and noise. Ivan and Sheba spoke at length of Contigo, though Mia picked up on Ivan's subtle disinclination to discuss Kalay. Jenna and Garet recounted anecdotes of some of the more ridiculous things they had been up to, and Isaac provided bare-boned updates on Mount Aleph.

Halfway through the meal, Mia finished the portion she had taken for herself. A handful of seared potatoes materialized before her wide eyes.

"...No thank you?"

"I wasn't sure I could finish them, and I saw you had the room," Piers explained, swirling his mead in languid circles. Felix, despite the fact that Piers had reached across him, showed zero interest in their exchange. "Don't let food go to waste."

With great reluctance, and a scintilla of petulance, Mia flipped her napkin back into her lap and obeyed.

Felix's method of eating was expedient and consistent. Always hunched with one arm wrapped around the dish, and always mindful of all that happened as he inhaled his food. Meanwhile, despite the presence of perfectly functional utensils, Garet used his hands to scoop up stubborn pieces of food from his plate. Mia's face was blank as she leaned in to murmur, "Can you not eat like you've been living in a cave for the past twelve years?"

His shoulders pulled taut. He looked to her slowly. "I'm hungry."

Jenna took his distraction as blessed opportunity to lunge across the table and spear a bit of chicken off his plate.

"Hey!"

From around a mouthful of pilfered poultry, Jenna intoned, "Taxes."

"We don't live in Tolbi!"

She pointed a finger and finished swallowing. "Colosso is about to be in season, no?" Her finger rotated to a bemused Isaac. "Will you two compete?"

He fiddled with the plaid tablecloth. "Maybe. There are more important—"

Garet slammed his fist on the table, rattling all the dishes and spilling Ivan's drink. "You bet your ass!"

"Every time..."

Jenna's sharp eyes took on a dreamy sheen as plopped her face into her hands. "I can't believe you actually won Colosso." Sheba looked to Mia with such overwhelming disgust and exasperation that she nearly spat out her tea.

"Yeah," Ivan muttered, sopping up his cider with a napkin. "_He _won."

Isaac chomped onto the poorly camouflaged bait. "I'm sorry, Ivan?"

"We"—Ivan gestured around the table with a drooping finger—"did you a solid."

"I never asked you to cheat—"

Jenna jerked in a paroxysm of betrayal and dismay. "So you _did_ cheat!?"

The revelation was loud enough to disrupt the table's other denizens. "First time I'm hearing about it," Piers said. "Those warriors near Shaman Village had a valid grievance, then?" Felix shook his head in grave disappointment.

Light from the fading afternoon sun produced a castigating glare on Kraden's glasses. "I never took you for the type, Isaac."

"What a loser," Sheba scoffed.

"It was non-consensual—"

"You needed it!" Garet interrupted.

"You conspired against me! I asked you to stop _twice._"

"The first round didn't go well, so we ignored him," Ivan informed the rest of the table.

"Yes, for some reason I thought you'd heed what I said! And then I'd start the course, marvelling at how well I was doing, only to see the mechanisms damaged, or a perfectly placed pillar of ice."

Jenna lunged across the table to slap Mia a high five so enthusiastic it sent pins and needles through her hand. Felix's grave disappointment was now directed at her. "You really were in danger," she reminded Isaac quietly.

"You say I was in danger, but I say...yeah, I was in danger."

"Honestly, what were you expecting us to do if something had happened to you? Haul your corpse to Lalivero and hope we could still access the lighthouse?"

"I mean, if you thought that would work."

"Morbid," Jenna cringed.

"Hey." Garet and his argumentative grin stooped over the table. "Speaking of Tolbi and awesome feats, do you guys remember when _Isaac_ defeated the Kraken?"

Isaac set his ale down harshly. "Don't start this garbage—"

Ivan leaned forward to join Garet. "Yes, but do you remember when _Isaac_ ran all of those spitting statues out of Atlin?"

"Or when _Isaac_ defeated Deadbeard and became the King of Pirates?"

"Or how _Isaac_ lifted the curse from Kolima?"

"Of course I do," Mia purred, inspecting her nails. "What were us other lepers doing, anyway?"

Isaac looked at her sideways. "Whatever, Mia. Your hair's blue." A grin split his face at her indignant squawk. A few seats over, Piers cackled into his drink.

Ivan sobered abruptly. To almost no one's notice, he cleared his throat. Upon repeating the action, Garet raised a request for silence. Ivan's eyes were trained on his small hands. "Speaking of Tolbi…"

Garet threw a hand out. "Well? What?"

Sheba continued in his stead. "There was a, uh. Situation."

"A situation?" Kraden parroted, poking his glasses up his nose.

Ivan and Sheba exchanged sober glances across the table. "What are you two talking about?" Isaac demanded, a trifle impatient.

Sheba quailed, so Ivan resumed delivery. "I'm sure you've felt plenty up here, but…a series of quakes tore Gondowan from Angara."

For the first time that evening, the house was noiseless.

"Is that even possible?" Garet asked, dubious.

Jenna toyed with her hair. "As in…"

"As in they're separate," Ivan finished.

"I heard that," Piers muttered, cutting a sidelong look to Felix. "When I was traveling the Eastern Sea. A man came to Champa saying the Karagol no longer existed, but we took them for rumors..."

"They aren't." Ivan set his elbows on the table and folded his hands before his mouth. "The docks of both Tolbi and Kalay were destroyed, as well as much of their internal structure. Some nearby settlements were hit. And on the heels of the largest earthquake came a tsunami."

Isaac's face was wiped clean of any feeling, a little like the person from Mars' aerie. "This was something we anticipated."

Mia swallowed thickly, not bothering to lean over Garet to make eye contact with Ivan. "How...how many…?"

"They weren't able to calculate a reliable, final figure, but Tolbi and Kalay alone were delivered estimates in the hundreds. Nearing the thousands in Tolbi's case."

An ugly silence seized them all by the throats. Ivan tried to smooth the truth's harsh edge by relating how well and how quickly the cities convalesced, but it came to Mia in a shrill, buzzing tone. To save the world, in order to do what they thought best, they had offered its inhabitants as sacrificial lamb without their knowledge or consent. Who were they to have decided for everyone?

Later in the evening, when the mood was lofty and the families convened to chat and reminisce, some friendlier villagers stopped by to say hello. Isaac and Garet reintroduced Ivan and Sheba, and Mia happily fed those that were hungry. In general, they avoided Felix. The boldest and most curious tried to speak with him, but were ultimately deterred by his standoffish manner. Felix rarely felt the need to observe proper social etiquette, particularly with those that had harassed him or were otherwise complicit.

Afflicted by a touch of old shyness she never managed to outgrow, Mia remained as white noise, keeping an eye on Felix and listening to conversations. There was a certain level of decorum expected of her as a healer, and she comported herself as such, but she felt off. Distant, a little detached. Colors weren't as vibrant as she remembered, sounds not as crisp.

Everyone was finally here. The love she had for these people was so intense. Having them was like having her heart walk outside of her body. A sense of communion she had lacked sorely from a young age. She adored her father, and Alex at one point, but home life in Imil was equivalent to unending work. Most days they were too tired to truly spend time together.

Her eyes stung when she blinked, dried from absent staring. These were her favorite people in the world. Some she hadn't seen in well over a year, and others she did not see near often enough. Why couldn't she cough up a bit of honest enthusiasm?

As she shuffled to the kitchen to tackle the looming mess, Mia reached out to absentmindedly trail her fingers across Felix's shoulder. Her hand recoiled, and she winced, but the impromptu touch hadn't startled or upset him. Instead, he watched with an open, curious expression as she glided around the corner to immerse herself in compulsive cleaning.

A shadow was thrown over the soapy basin as Garet lumbered over. "Hey, tweaker, you know the world won't end if the mess isn't cleaned right away."

"I know. Let me be weird in peace."

He snatched the towel from her hands. "You wash, I dry."

"Oh, you don't need to…"

"Teamwork makes the dream work."

A triumphant half hour later (and to the great delight of Felix and Jenna's parents), the kitchen was spotless. Mia rounded the corner, already searching for Felix out of habit.

Something had gone amiss with him. It was subtle. The way his eyes flashed through the doors and windows. The flex of his fingers. How he held still as stone. If she scanned his vitals, she would find evidence of adrenaline and cortisol. But, she didn't need psynergy to know he was stressed. Seizing a moment, Mia shifted close and caught his attention. A certain shorthand had come to exist between them. They slipped outside, a pair of shadows.

What remained of the day blushed over the mountains, and a mass of dark, heavy clouds rolled in from the north. Mia and Felix set off in no great hurry, picking their way through the daffodil-ridden grass side-by-side. Deep in rumination, she kept her head down to avoid stepping on the flowers.

"You do realize this only works if just one of us is brooding."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"Are you well?"

She mustered up a smile. "I'm fine."

Unconvinced, and a touch energetic from the festivities, Felix decided to poke her repeatedly in the arm. Using both hands, Mia seized the offending finger and bent it with a _krsch_ sound effect. He uttered a soft cry and cradled his hand as if she had snapped his bone.

She peered up into his face with a slight smile, one that grew when she noticed static pulling bits of his hair away from the regime.

Felix's lips twitched. "What's gotten into you now?"

"Your hair," she breathed through a laugh. As she reached up to pet it in place, she did so slowly, allowing him the chance to reject the action. He didn't. Mia's gloves compounded the issue, and she tittered like mad at her creation.

Felix rolled his eyes and shamelessly licked his hand before running it through his hair. "Think it's going to rain?"

"Mm...feels rather dry to me."

As they approached the bridge, a young couple skittered away, caught in the throes of scandal. Their boots produced a pleasant thudding against the wood as they walked the vacated bridge and took rest in the middle, looking north. Mount Aleph was a brand of fire against the iron whirlpool of sky.

"Piers offered to take me to Imil, whenever I'm ready. Wants to see the lighthouse."

Felix studied Mia in his periphery. "Do you? Want to go?"

"I'm obligated to go," she murmured, pressing lightly against his arm.

"You don't want to, though." At the shake of her head, he asked, "Why don't you want to go home?"

"There's nobody there." Megan and Justin were there, of course, but it wasn't the same. Mia's nails worked the rail through her gloves, and she bit her lip at the accompanying needles of pain.

"Don't go back." Felix delivered the statement with such finality that she looked at him in disbelief.

"I have a bloodline duty to uphold, Felix. My father to honor."

He leaned back against the railing, arms folded, a challenge scrawled across his sharp face. "Would your father rather your duty be fulfilled, or for you yourself to be fulfilled?"

Mia lowered her head, eyeing him from under her lashes. "Well, he would certainly have liked me to find an in between, but if one came at the expense of the other, then I'm afraid you wouldn't have appreciated his response."

They stared each other down, stubborn and unyielding. When the tension began to stifle, Mia looked away. "I'm sorry, I…" She sighed and crossed her arms onto the railing. "I'm here to perform a task. When I finish, I'll return to Imil and resume my post. There's not much to discuss."

"Your life is your own." Felix maintained his penetrating stare. "You can't live doing what's expected of you. Do what you want."

"What I want," she whispered. "I don't know what that looks like." For the first time in her life, the door to the cage was open. The lighthouse no longer required guarding, her capacity as a healer was greatly diminished, and the most important person in the world had been gone for a long time. Beholden to no one, no prophecy or duty. After the apprentices were trained, Mia had no reason to stay, but no reason to go, either.

Would her task truly be finished with the christening of the apprentices? She was still complicit for the loss of Vale, the loss of life miles away. Fines she would be paying for the rest of her life. Did she even deserve to have what she wanted? Did she have the audacity to be content and comfortable while others suffered and died by her oblivious decisions?

A warm had covered her own. Before she had a chance to voice confusion, Felix was leading her to the far side of the bridge. He took her past the last houses, cutting further north until they reached the tree line. Here, Mia dug her heels in, forcing him to stop. "Felix?"

Mount Aleph had captured his eyes, and he did not acknowledge her. Conscientious and sensitive, Mia tugged gently at his hand. He turned to her without speech, features obscured in the dark, and watched her for an unsettling amount of time.

"We know how to survive."

"...I'm sorry?"

"We can go right now. They'd understand."

Mia was physically unable to respond.

"What's there to stay for? They may not say it aloud any longer, but we aren't wanted here." Felix's tone softened. "Your Clan's teachings have been undone. Your father is gone, as is the rest of your family."

Her hand was limp in his. "Felix…"

"We can go anywhere. Be anything we want to be." He stepped backwards, loosing her hand and crushing a daffodil beneath his heel. Mia curled her hand to her chest, worried stiff as a doe. "We wouldn't stay anywhere for long or get stuck. We could keep moving without commitment to anything."

Life on the road was brutal, but even Mia could not deny the freedom it brought. Still, her brain idly picked through the more unsavory parts of travel, resistant to the idea. The four of them would wander for days, hollow-eyed, cold, blue of their veins showing through pallid skin. An inordinate amount of time to reflect on oneself and life. "That sounds so lonely," she whispered.

Felix shook his head. "It doesn't have to be. And it doesn't have to be forever. Think about it, Mia. We could go wherever we wanted."

"Together?"

"Together."

Mia stole a glance at Vale. The Mars adepts were lighting the torches for the coming night. Little balls of flame engulfing the village, one by one. She watched in a stupefied trance before turning around. "Felix, I can't."

"What are you holding on to?" He stepped closer, so close she had to lift her chin to hold his eyes. "What are you so afraid of?"

Her lashes fluttered, stunned at the familiarity of the conversation. "And what do you run from?"

"Nothing."

"This thing you search for, what if you never find it? What happens if it's not how you thought it would be? What if it's not there at all?"

"And what do you expect to discover stagnating in the same place you've always been in?"

Hands to her fragile chest, Mia backed away, glassy-eyed in the twilight. "You'd really up and leave like that? Without a word to anyone? Not even your own sister?"

Disquieted by her blatant distress, Felix's posture lost some of its steel, and his mouth opened, fumbling around the words choking his tongue. The sun fell further behind the mountains, and the bugs began to sing, filling their anxious silence. Felix looked over his shoulder in a way almost lugubrious, like a caged animal yearning for its homeland. Mia held very still, preparing for the inevitable. In the end, he touched a hand to the small of her back and guided her back to Vale. It was a long, long walk.

When they entered Mia's house, the accretion of tension had dissipated, and they were merely tired. Mia helped Felix remove his heavy coat, took off her cloak and boots, and perched on the edge of her bed. Felix took his time unlacing his boots, and walked to her desk after lighting a lantern, letting his fingers drift over the books and papers. "You've been sketching." He held up a thin sheet of curling parchment. "What kind of flower is this?"

"A hibiscus."

"Pretty," he mumbled.

"Ever seen a lobiscus? They're similar, but even prettier."

His lips pressed into a thin line. "I think I have, actually."

Mia smiled, ducking her head to fidget with her gloves.

"...There's no such thing as a lobiscus, is there."

"And you thought you were slick, you old grump."

He shoved her shoulder. She rolled with it and lounged onto the bed.

Felix cast her an unguarded look. Catching his gist, Mia scooted to the wall in invitation. He sat, and after a moment's hesitation, laid down and faced her. It was a small bed. Their faces were close on the pillow, so close he was almost out of focus.

The coming night thrummed about them. Mia looked steadily into Felix's dark eyes. "Where would you go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." His voice rumbled into her blood. "Where would you go?"

"I've never given it much thought…"

"There must be somewhere."

"Well," she whispered, looking to the dark spot on the ceiling. "There was the witch doctor Piers told me about. Aka…"

"Akafubu."

"Yes. I think it would be good to learn how he heals."

"You two would either be the best of friends, or there would be a homicide."

The corner of her mouth stretched in a lazy smile. "Piers said he could be rather abrasive."

"Where else? Something that doesn't have to do with healing."

Due to their proximity, she absently pushed her hands against his chest as she cogitated. He didn't seem to mind. "To add to the roster of things Piers has told me about, he did make Aqua Rock sound quite pleasant."

"Jenna hated Aqua Rock. I hated Aqua Rock. And Air's Rock."

"I don't know anything about Air's or Gaia Rock, but everyone knows how Piers and I felt about Magma Rock." They shared in quiet laughter.

"I guess Garet really wasn't exaggerating about the Lamakan, then?"

"Oh, hush, you." Mia thumped his chest, earning a small grin from him. "Mm, speaking of which, I did like the Apojii Islands, even if they were a little warm."

"They were not that warm."

"Yes they were. Garet and I fell asleep on the beach and got so sunburned we barely made it back to the village." They laughed again, then quieted for a time.

"Felix?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever feel like you've been left behind? Or, that you've left everything behind? Like there's nothing before you. The good times, the bad. The here and now, the past, the future. You've passed it all by. It's just...over."

Felix digested her question in his customary quiet. Mia kept still, getting lost in the muffled beat of his heart beneath her hands. "What's so wrong with that?" His shoulder rustled against the sheets in an attempted shrug. "If that's how you feel, then you have nothing to lose. Pave a new way forward. Don't waste yourself on doubt and self-sabotage."

Mia averted her eyes. Shouting and laughter pierced the otherwise still night. Crickets and cicadas crooned their eerie chants. Gusts of wind made the small house tremble.

"Tell me something."

Felix grumbled in request for clarification.

"Anything. Anything at all. I don't want to think right now."

"...Alright." He rolled to his back and laced his fingers across his chest. Emboldened by their closeness, Mia wormed close and pressed her face into his shoulder. He rambled through a number of topics: growing up in Vale, a handful of lighter stories from Prox, things about him and Jenna, secrets she was honored to bear witness to.

As he talked on, Mia struggled to prevent herself from dozing, and grew irritated she couldn't stay awake to listen. In the midst of her turmoil, she failed to notice Felix's voice fading out, and that he too was nodding off. When the realization set in some sleepy minutes later, Mia snuggled up to his arm, closed her eyes, and slept.


	11. X: Torrent::Breathing Space

_Chapter Ten_

breathing space  
/TORRENT/

They woke early, as always.

He had stirred seconds before her; she could tell by the way his breath hitched with the remnants of sleep. She rolled onto her side and pressed back into the wall, fists tucked near her face. Felix slurred an unintelligible greeting, still on his back with his eyes closed. He slept like he was laying in a coffin.

Mia, who woke cleanly and quietly, murmured, "Someone is going to get the wrong impression if you keep falling asleep here. Namely your sister. And Sheba."

Felix grumbled and scrubbed his eyes.

"Feeling a bit better?"

"Yeah." He turned his face towards her general direction, eyes screwed shut. "Thanks."

Her eyes roamed over his features. "Yeah."

They dressed in the dim silence of dawn. Felix departed to his home for one reason or another while Mia started breakfast. By the time he came back, she had a plate waiting for him and was seated at the table, staring blankly out of the window. Felix sat, gathered his utensils, and took substantial pause.

"Tea."

Visibly unsatisfied, but unwilling to press the issue, he consumed his meal in silence. At the insistent whistle of the kettle, Mia rose, flicked a cabinet open to nab a mug, grabbed the kettle through a cloth, and poured its contents.

"Uhm…"

"Hm?" Mia twisted to Felix, brow crinkled in perplexion at the splattering sound coming from her hands. The next instant saw her leaping away from the counter as it was engulfed in scorching liquid, originating from the bottom of the mug she had neglected to turn right-side up.

"Shit!" she yelped, then covered her mouth because she wasn't supposed to swear. "Oh—! Shit!"

Felix snorted. "I've been waiting for that..."

With a defeated sigh, Mia channeled psynergy into the steaming water and funneled it into the basin. "Idiot. At least my head is still attached to my neck." Completely turned off of the idea of tea, she dumped herself back into a chair.

"You didn't sleep well," Felix commented, eyes glinting with leftover amusement.

"No, I didn't," Mia replied, cheek nestled into her palm. "I did remember to tell you I was meeting Ga—" The words crumbled on her lips. There, at the door, sat a familiar rucksack. Sadness softened the edges of her eyes. "How long?"

A shrug, as if he had zero obligation to her. Maybe he didn't. "Is that okay?" he asked, not sounding like he wanted to know or cared about her opinion.

Mia shook her head, ducking his penetrating stare. "Of course."

By nature, his lack of presence reduced the likelihood of reciprocation. The subsequent absence of risk softened her heart over time spent together, and she had conferred upon Felix an unparalleled ability to upset her. In his presence, her skin was gossamer as baby's breath. Inadvertently or otherwise, he could whip her raw over the most trivial of matters, hurt and frighten her with ease. With a proclivity for coldness, he had a way of making time for her while simultaneously acting like her presence, or lack thereof, had no effect on his mood. It made her try too hard at times. The total effect of their developing arrangement was to agitate her without understanding what the matter was.

A sharp twinge of pain shot up her hand. Upon examination, her middle finger had worn through the tip of her glove. Again. Mia slumped over the table and buried her face in her arms.

"What?"

"I have to do my hair," she groaned in a thick voice, like she was telling him she was terminally ill.

Felix's chair scraped across the floor, and he thunked away without answer or acknowledgement. Typical.

Though it was early summer, the house was remarkably cool. Everything was cast in that overwhelming morning blue, tinged with melancholy. The melody of birds singing to themselves wafted through the open windows. The village stood silent, a mindful cradle for those still slumbering. Without a doubt, it was Mia's favorite time of day.

She produced a soft noise when a pair of hands brushed against the sides of her throat. Felix paused as she sat up in alarm, then continued gathering her hair up. "I used to do it for Jenna when she was younger," he said, concentrated scowl audible in his voice. The sensation of his rough, warm hands in her hair, his steady breathing behind her, and the sleepy ambience of early morning had Mia dozing.

"Goodnight," she whispered dreamily into her hands.

"No. Good morning."

"Wake me when the sun is out."

His hands stilled, and she sensed more than heard him draw away from her. "It might be too late by then."

Running her fingers through her hair, Mia smiled her thanks as Felix sat down to finish his drink. He fixed her with an inscrutable, intense look over the rim of his mug, one further sharpened when she cocked her head and narrowed her eyes.

"Well, I had better get going." Mia pushed her chair in and swiped her bag from the desk. They shared a long look. "Go see Jenna before you leave."

The only notable thing to happen at the sanctum was a minor emergency where a child decided it would be great fun to launch their friend into the river with Move (an idea recanted when a rock busted said friend's head open). After leaving Tonic and Balm behind, the Great Healer whisked Mia away to his home, where she entertained the grandchildren so their mother could rest. Mid-afternoon found her wandering up to Garet's house.

With the coming celebration, Mia and Kay had allowed the villagers to take what they pleased from their garden, so long as they were respectful. A handful of people wandered between the brilliant summertime blooms, and Mia rolled her hand over white pinwheels of vinca and brooding droops of fuchsia. A speckled dog, sprawled in the sun along her path, gleefully accepted the cool water she produced in her cupped hands.

Here, listening to the dog's thumping tail and massaging her wet hands into its fur, Mia froze. A weight pulled on a rope attached to her center. Gray haze shrouding her every step, harrying her with pointing fingers and vile tongue, murdering the path to companionship and tranquility.

This should be easy. Garet wanted her there. So, why was she backing away?

Concerned and baffled, the dog looked after her without anything helpful to say.

"Mia!" Kay leaned out of her kitchen window, crimson hair held back in a white cloth. "What're you doing?" When Mia failed to respond, she beckoned impatiently. "Get over here!"

At the window, Mia stretched on her toes and folded her arms across the sill, but for whatever reason, was unable to offer a greeting.

"Hey, you." Kay leaned forward on the counter with a speculative look in her eyes, the same tawny as Garet's. "What's the matter, huh?"

"Ah...is Garet around?"

Kay's smile faltered, and her eyes flicked back and forth between Mia's. "Yeah, yeah. He's in the study."

"Would you mind if I come—"

"_Garet!_"

"_What?_" came from upstairs.

"Okay," Mia whispered, head sinking to her arms.

Kay reached over to straighten Mia's fringe. As the eldest child of the household, she had an irrepressible predilection for doting, something Mia learned to submit to without complaint. "What's up with you lately?"

"Been at the sanctum. Normal things."

"No, I meant you've been a little withdrawn."

"I'm sorry…"

"For what?"

Thunder rolled as Garet bounded down the stairs. "You know I hate it when you don't answer—Oh." His face split into a big grin, and Mia couldn't help but smile back.

They set off southwest to a location Garet refused to disclose. An axe gleamed atop his broad shoulders, and the Masamune was comfortable on Mia's hip. Everyone was very interested in her newfound potential as a sparring partner while she remained very uninterested in the whole affair. The physical outlet was an enjoyable addition to normal routine, but the thrill of battle had never been hers. Instead, she accepted it as a simple necessity that may or may not serve her well in the future, and relented to regular practice so her abilities stayed keen.

Apple orchards and billowing fields of grain shimmered in the sun, bright and healthy. The families charged with tending the orchards worked to harvest apples and arrange them in an ungainly storehouse with the rest of Vale's goods. A few men were out in the fields with sickles and oxen, eliminating bad crops and plowing ground for the new. Further south, a silent flock of sheep loitered atop a flat of baby green grass. The vigilant shepherd turned to observe Mia and Garet's approach. When Mia caught his eye, he raised a hand in standard greeting, but the wide wave accompanying the action betrayed it as familiar.

"I don't know him. Do you?" Garet asked as he dropped his hand.

"Huh. I suppose I do."

When they neared Bald Hills, they veered north into Whiteknife. Down in a valley, the land bottle-necked into a gnarled crevice, lined with pale granite and winding up into a densely forested hill. At the end of their ascent, Mia knew there to be nothing but trees, and expected Garet to take them further into the hills in search of a suitable arena. Instead, what they were met with were the splinters of uprooted trees, churned soil, and a cavernous trench torn into the earth.

The birds were silent here. Nothing stirred. Mia and Garet walked cautiously to where the ground was rent, split as if some resentful god had stabbed at it with a butcher knife and pulled. "Garet...do you know when this happened?"

"One of the hunters told me about it a few days ago. This is the first time I've seen it." They stood without breath, awestruck by the destruction. The chasm swelled with black, like all evils had congregated in this one pit. In the distance, Mount Aleph glowed brighter than the summer sun.

"The earthquakes have been frightful lately," Mia whispered. Megan and Justin had written to her extensively about the shifting mountain ranges in the north, as well as expressing concern over the potential eradication of Goma Cave. They had communicated in no uncertain terms that they wanted her home as soon as possible, whether her job was complete or not. She had yet to write them back.

"Yeah." Garet puttered closer to the edge, giving Mia a playful, antagonizing glance when she put an anxious hand on his wrist.

"I thought we agreed on no more ledges."

"My grandfather's been concerned with the restlessness of the village."

Mia stepped to his side, his hand clasped between her own. "I haven't heard much in the way of resentment towards Felix. Have you?"

"Only because no one is dumb enough to say anything around you." Garet heaved a great sigh. "They can be pretty ungrateful, don't you think?"

"All things considered, yes, I suppose they can be." Mia fidgeted with his hand, so much larger than her own. "Things could have turned out a lot worse. Some people are dead by our age, but we're not."

"Exactly. That's what I keep trying to tell everyone. We stood at the edge of the volcano and came back with our eyebrows."

Mia rose her own brows. "You should stitch that onto a pillow."

"It's not only that, either. It's everything." Garet broke away from her with a huff.

"What do you mean, 'everything'?"

"I mean, this is my village." He ran his hands through his hair, agitating the spiky strands. "These are the lives I'm going to make decisions for one day. And they're so fractured. People want to move away, and others call them heathens for it. Outsiders want to move into Vale—which would bolster our economy, no less—and they still aren't wanted.

"And I still can't get over how angry my grandfather was with the first wave of refugees. I didn't think he was like that." Garet sighed, and his hands settled onto his hips. "I just...I don't know. I don't know how I'm supposed to bring all of these people together."

Mia laughed under her breath. Worry crept across Garet's posture and expression. "What? Why are you laughing at me?"

"Oh, sorry." She batted a dainty hand. "I'm not laughing at you."

"Well, you're laughing at something."

"I find it silly that you of all people are worried about bringing everyone together."

"Oh." He scowled deeply. "Really?"

"Really. That's what I've always known you for. Uniting people and keeping them close. You were the glue that held our little group together, and I don't foresee you having much of an issue when you take over for your grandfather."

Garet made a visible attempt to carve the hope out of his tone. "Really?"

"Really!" Mia smiled warmly. "You don't have to be Isaac, or even Felix. There's more than one brand of leadership."

Garet looked to be positively shining, and held her gaze in a long, affectionate look before cracking his knuckles. "Alright. Let's do this." Wisps of red gathered around his body. One hand raised, the other braced against his stiff forearm, he called Pyroclasm in his loudest battle roar. The air rippled and burned, and the tear in the ground burgeoned scarlet as columns of flame soared from its depths and into the blue sky.

Mia rubbed her arm as the energy from the spell dissipated. "What in Coatlicue's name was that for?"

Hands back on his hips, Garet nodded at his handiwork. "Feels good, letting all of your energy out. Kind of like punching a pillow, you know?"

"No, I don't know."

"Whatever. You look like you could use some release." His djinn blipped into existence and extended salutations.

Mia released her djinn as well. "How so?"

"You'll see." Garet scratched his chin, puzzling at something. "A little light on djinn, aren't you?"

"Two are at the sanctum. The rest...I let them go."

"I can't believe I didn't know that." His amber eyes narrowed as his djinn relayed something to him. "Okay. Have Fizz and Sleet or whoever go back to you."

There came a tiny shriek. Both adepts turned to see Sleet dancing along the edge of the chasm like a djinni gone mad. _It grows closer between you!_ it crowed. From a corner deep within Mia's head, Fizz heaved a long-suffering sigh.

Serac beckoned Mia's call in place of Sleet, and Garet ordered one of his djinn to join her. Mia shifted from foot to foot, not at all pleased with the arrangement, but willing to humor. "Did she get it?" he asked.

_No,_ Corona answered.

"Your turn, then...anything, Scorch?"

_No._

So it went. When Garet's djinn shrieked in excitement, Mia had seven attached to her person. "Okay." Garet clapped his hands together with a robust grin. "How does it feel?"

Mia barely registered the inquiry. Now, Garet was so unapologetically Garet that she was prone to acting a fool in his presence, but this was different. She was _buzzing_. It felt like she could run twenty laps around Vale. Farmland and orchards included. "I-I feel like I need to hit something," she burst, tripping over the speed of her delivery.

"That happens." Garet took her by the shoulder and led her to the lip of the chasm. "Okay, try a Pyroclasm out. The djinn can help."

"Okay. Wait. No. No no no—"

"Jeez, what?"

Mia bunched her arms to her chest. "I don't want to destroy anything."

"Oh, come _on_."

"There's nothing that warrants destruction for one's own amusement—"

"I knew you would be like this, damnit."

"What?"

With a feral grin, Garet put his hands out and incinerated a tree with Liquefier.

"Garet!" Mia cried, eyes shining red with the flames swallowing the helpless tree.

He jabbed a resentful finger in her direction. "You are the enemy of fun."

"Why would you hurt the tree? It was only being a tree!"

"It's a tree! It can't feel anything!"

After confronting the forest fire Garet accidentally started, they faced the chasm once more.

"Okay," Garet huffed. "Concentrate on the empty space. You won't hurt a damn thing."

Bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, Mia tensed her fingers and called on her psynergy. It raged under her command, but skirted her call like some ill-mannered dog. She glowered at her hands and flicked them out violently. "It's not working."

"Well, you're a Mercury adept."

"What?" She rounded on Garet. "How long have you known about this?"

He rolled his eyes. "I meant that Mars going to feel a lot different than Mercury. You need to have enough energy to harness the energy. You feel me?"

Nodding to herself, Mia took a short breath and held on to it. There was fire in her blood. Sickly warm, charring her from the inside out. Bit by bit, she harnessed the power, wincing as it sizzled from chest to outstretched fingers. She let it go.

"Don't like it?" Garet chuckled.

"It's a bit painful," she mumbled, rubbing her hands together.

"Oh, if it hurts, then—"

Mia extended her hands once more. "I can do it." Silvery rings engulfed her, the same off-white as always, but the low roar of Mars convoluted Mercury's shrill whine. Stoic in her resolution against the burning, Mia focused on the chasm, imagining spires of heat exploding from its maw. Pressing for more, she tightened her concentration, and the rings increased their velocity.

Garet scuffed at the dirt and moaned, "Six days later."

"Shut up." Twisting her head to the side and squinting in a touch of fear, Mia squeaked, "Pyroclasm?"

There was stillness. A low grumble. Then, shots of red-hot flame plumed into the air.

"Hey!" Garet slapped her back and sent her stumbling. "Oops. Look at you!"

Stifling a wild grin, Mia turned back to the chasm and cast the spell again. Garet laughed and held his hands out. Together, they created their very own volcanic eruption.

It was breathless, giggling hysteria, like a distant memory on Apojii. Black water, smoke in her lungs, sand and salt in her hair, the entire universe twinkling down on them. Garet had been right. Letting this excess energy out set her head straight. The heat from their psynergy seared the clinging death right off her bones.

Something tickled the back of her brain. Something more inherent than Mars-based energy. Mia dropped a hand, leaving one comfortably extended. The familiar, freezing clutch of Mercury engulfed her in howling discs. Her blood snapped frozen, her breath iced its way from nail beds to scalp. There was serenity, but behind the serenity, a screaming blizzard. What was this power?

_Freeze Prism_, Fizz prompted.

She mouthed the words. The air above their heads twisted. Massive, freakish glaciers sublimated in split seconds and rocketed to the earth like meteors. Most found their way to the chasm, but others pummeled the hapless landscape. Boulders blew apart, craters stamped into the ground, a downed tree blew to pieces. Even the lips of the chasm opened wider in a furious, deafening onslaught.

"So much for not..." Garet dropped his hands, perplexed. "The hell was that?"

"Freeze Prism." Mia dropped her hand, incensed for no discernible reason. They exchanged wry looks, and brought their hands forth to rain fire and ice upon the land.

* * *

**A/N: **Mia and Garet share one brain cell. Unequally.

Sorry about the coked out interactions in the past two chapters. I really like writing banter.

After scrapping a major plot point this chapter was specifically created for, it reads a _bit_ like filler. But, it's still character development (coupled with some planting), and I spent way too much time restructuring around this stupid thing so here have it

And after going over this story for the 976th time, there's a lot I would cut out/change (that fight scene in the beginning would have functioned better as an ideological dispute between Mia and Felix, methinks). It irks me.

This is the official halfway point. Next time, everything goes to shit and never really stops. I cannot believe I've (officially) written nearly forty thousand words of this garbage.


	12. IX: Geyser::Redshift

_Chapter Nine_

redshift  
\GEYSER\

Every window in the home was painted iron gray. Tentative as a lamb, Mia pushed herself into a sit. Weary, hopeful eyes floated to the sofa.

Getting out of bed was akin to crawling out of a coffin and spitting up dirt. She dug her toes deep into the thick rug, trying to stretch the sleep from her muscles before pattering over to make tea. At some point between the middle of last night and now, her flint had proclaimed "no more". After several vain attempts to light the stove, Mia set the stone and steel down, and pulled her shaking hands through her hair. Tried again. Once more. Nothing. The flint clattered across the stove, shattering the silence of the morning.

Water splattered on the ground. Shuddering fingers pressed to her cheek. Warm tears bled down her hand. Mia examined them in a stricken, unhinged sort of horror. Her mind fed her an altered reality where this situation was the worst it could possibly be, and her head whipped into a vortex of _everything is wrong why me where did it all go wrong_—

"Hey." A firm hand pressed into her waist.

Mia started and whirled, slapping her hands against the oven. Felix retracted his hand, dark eyes roving over her, and then over the house for any hurt or danger. "What happened?" Urgency thickened his tone.

She stuttered horribly, tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, hands swiping the wetness from her face. "Nothing. Why?"

Felix gave her one of the most emotive expressions she had ever seen him wear, appalled that she could ask something so cataclysmically stupid.

"I mean—sorry. Sorry you had to see that. I'm fine. When did you get back?"

His brow flinched at the speed of her words. "I'm grabbing a few things before heading back out. I have no business being here tonight." He held her gaze unflinchingly, daring her to release the words coiled around her throat.

"Be safe, please." Mia crossed her arms, not quite meeting his eyes. Though her heart had melted into a puddle of wax, none of the hurt she felt found its way onto her face.

"Will you be attending?"

She dipped her head in a subdued nod. "I'm required to attend as a healer. Wasn't so bad last year."

Felix hummed, head lowered to watch her with disconcerting intensity, a wolf sizing up a potential threat. "Have you eaten?"

"Uhm. I was trying to make myself tea before heading out, but the...have you?"

He graced her question with a grunt, and began fishing around in his tunic. With head pounding and eyes burning, Mia could muster little to no interest in what he was doing. A triumphant second later, Felix presented her with the contents of his pockets. "Look."

The thread of excitement weaving through his voice acted as an immediate balm for her mood. Mia tucked some hair behind her ear with a soft smile. "Found some rocks, did you?"

"To the southeast. There's a ruin that's been uncovered by the quakes." An assortment of stones huddled within the cradle of Felix's palm, each reflecting a unique hue of beige, scarlet, or smoky gray. With great deliberation and care, Felix selected a freckled, gray stone slashed with streaks of electric blue. "This one is the prettiest," he declared, and passed it to Mia.

"It is lovely," she murmured, examining the jagged, cold rock with a slight pout.

Felix pocketed the rest of his collection. "You can probably feel it more clearly than I can."

Mia wagged the stone. "Jupiter?"

"Who knew something like that could show up in Angara?"

"You should tell Ivan and Sheba about it. Maybe she and Piers will make a detour when they head out tomorrow." When Mia went to hand the stone back, Felix closed her fingers around it. He was so delicate about it, like her bones were flower petals.

"Keep it. Just...don't tell Jenna. She likes to bother."

Mia pressed the stone to her heart. "To the grave." As if by intuition, her thumb discovered a smooth groove, and she rubbed at it obsessively. "Are you...?"

Felix stood straight and proud, and held her eyes with nothing short of a challenge. "Yes. People are already preparing for the evening. It'd be best if I was quick."

She nodded and ducked her head, still clutching the stone to her chest. The thudding of Felix's boots was near-deafening as he strode out and shut the door behind him.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

"Easy, I'm just about finished."

Brow pursed in a sullen, stern frown, the girl watched Mia work her instruments with practiced, steady hands.

"Are you sure about this thread?"

"It's my favorite color."

"Alright." Mia supinated the needle and continued to establish parallel lines in a trance. "Your brother did this, huh?"

The frown waxed to a surly pout. "I hate him."

"Oh, you don't mean that."

She winced. "...I guess he's nice sometimes."

The knot was tied without much affair, but Mia's suture scissors were old, dulled, and unable to snip the loose thread. She exhaled in a puff, already dreading the financials she would need to rework later. "Hand me those, ah…" Her index and middle fingers knocked together. "The cuts."

The girl wordlessly handed her a pair of bandage scissors. Everything snipped and tidied, Mia pulled the surgical fabric from her face with an approving nod. "I think he's going to be just fine."

Brimming with excitement, the girl ripped the handkerchief from her face and hugged her teddy bear to her chest.

As Mia walked the girl and her mother out, Jacob swept in from a house call. Normally belligerent and whiny, he had opted to pick up quite a bit of extra work in the past weeks. "Uncle is outside," he said over his shoulder. "He'd like you to speak with him."

True to word, the Great Healer loitered at the side of the sanctum, austere like a ragged oak tree. Mia bowed politely, then slapped a package of candy into his expectant palm.

"Ah." He opened the thin wrapping and broke the candy in perfect halves. One half he placed between his teeth, the other he offered to Mia, snowy brow raised in inquiry. She accepted, and they relished the sweet in companionable silence.

Treat consumed, the Great Healer patted Mia's shoulders, quietly ecstatic in the way old men were. "Are you prepared for the celebration, little bird?"

At her quivering smile and slight nod, he patted her again. "No need for anxiety. Most of the villagers have taken a liking to you. And those that have not are wise enough to be silent."

Mia nodded fully this time, and looked west to the center of town. Because the plaza was situated on the slopes feeding into the river, she had a clear view of the festivities being arranged. Dozens of frantic bodies fluttered around the space. Venus adepts braided roots and grass into willowy tables and benches. A troupe of musicians fiddled with their instruments, rehearsing anxious runs for their coming performance. A number of traders had caught wind of the festival, and were setting up shop to try their luck. Flowers, both wild and from Mia and Kay's garden, were strung up in every conceivable corner of the plaza, filling the town with their delicate scent.

"Another summer come, and another summer to soon be gone," the Great Healer sighed. "I've lived a long life." His heavy brows twitched. "I've lived a good life. I think I'm ready to go."

Mia faced him wearing a sad, pleading smile. "Now, you shouldn't say things like that."

"It is my truth. I'm too feeble to look after the grandchildren. My peers are dead. The love of my life has been gone for years. My own children have gray hair. I do worry I missed my boat."

It was not abnormal for him to pull her aside and put his heart to her ear, but this seemed lonely. Bleak. Mia wondered what it was like to be so resigned to one's fate, to welcome it, even. Counting off the seconds until relinquishing your consciousness and joining the earth. "Does it bother you?" she whispered.

"Does what bother me, dear?"

"That everyone you know and love is going to die?"

"The embrace of life includes acceptance of death." He frowned down at her. "A simple fact any healer should be at peace with. Your eyes are muddied. What has upset you so?"

Mia set her teeth. "I haven't been resting very well."

"Then get some sleep."

She was chasing after sleep, and it was running her to death. Her father taught her the detriments of insomnia in regards to the body, but he never told her how dangerous the mind could become. Nothing prepared her to handle the extra time on her hands, for the gaping windows in her defense. Exhaustion whittled her thoughts to daggers. Little by little, they filled her with holes: trashing her buoyancy, draining her sanity. Her brain was a mischievous child, and she had left it unattended with flint and kindling.

"We're concerned you're burning yourself out."

Mia's eyes lifted to his, and her lips parted, but nothing came.

"You've been moving so slowly."

"I apologize." She squared her posture, but avoided eye contact. "I'll rectify it."

The Great Healer studied her. His eyes were darker than Felix's, almost onyx. "That being said, you've trained the apprentices up well. The elders are impressed. It will be time to christen them before we know it."

Mia bowed her head. "They are excellent students."

"And due to that, one can assume they can handle more independent work."

She met his eyes warily.

"The day after tomorrow, you are to take leave from the sanctum. Two weeks. Minimum."

"That's—that's not necessary," she sputtered through a nervous smile. To be denied the work she was born and bred for was a blow too cruel to stand. "Truly, I—"

"Mia."

She fell silent.

"This isn't meant as punishment. You seem to labor under the belief that your worth as a healer is paid for by a lack of attendance to yourself." The grit in his tone soothed. "You're welcome to return when you have yourself sorted out, but for now, I can't have you working exhausted. You're of no good to anyone, then."

"...Yes, F—sir."

The Great Healer's gnarled hand fell upon her head to muss her hair lovingly. "Buck up. We have a party."

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

There was food, there was music, and there was laughter. Everyone looked happy, and that was more than she could ask for.

Next to her, Ivan fixed his stew with a skeptical stare. "They're thinking of renaming Vale what, now?"

"Levant." Isaac stirred his black pudding with a certain degree of self-importance. "Anything that encapsulates our spirit really. I've heard the name Lightfighter being thrown around." Vale, a place so disillusioned by its own upward inertia that it had yet to construct a cemetery.

Piers set his utensils down. "You cannot name your village Lightfighter. That is a ridiculous name."

"You're right, _Piers_." Sheba crinkled her small nose, and Jenna giggled next to her. "Maybe they'll name it Wharf. Or Jetty. Or Dock."

Mia spent a considerable amount of time mashing her lingonberries to jam. Kraden's wild hair and Garet's burning head were visible over Isaac's shoulders; they were confined to the main table for the mealtime portion of the solstice festival. Valean custom dictated the mayoral family, elders, and the healing posse attend events in each other's company. As the Great Healer's temporary right hand, she should be at his side, but he had permitted her to sneak off. The only reason healers were mandated to attend any major event—

An eruption of crashing glass, whooping, and shrieking broke out a few tables over, followed by a peculiar moaning noise, and finally, hails for a healer. Mia left her seat without a word.

Piers chuckled upon her return. Although he had only been landed in Vale for a handful of months, she could already see that sailor-crazy glint in his eyes. "Enjoying yourself?"

Mia smiled humorlessly, and ran her finger around the lip of her glass.

As the meal ran its course, people migrated around to visit with friends, dance, and investigate the shops scattered around the plaza. Mead in hand, Garet came swaggering over, and took a seat by Jenna and Sheba (who were locked in the thick of gossip). Isaac, Piers, and Ivan were still somehow carping over names for Vale, and Garet absorbed their discussion before interjecting, "If we're gonna rename Vale, I'll cast my vote for Garrettsville, in honor of the future champion of Colosso."

He lifted his glass in toast. Some of its contents sloshed onto Jenna, who shrieked in rage, and whose rage incited Sheba to holler in solidarity.

"If that's your criterion, shouldn't it be called Isaacsville?" Piers intoned over their furious anger.

"No, sir, it shouldn't, and it _shan't_, because I will triumph without resorting to cheating."

"...You'll wish you had cheated when I whoop your ass."

"Inconceivable."

"I'll ruin you so badly that even Mia won't be able to fix you."

"Now you're just insulting Mia."

As they continued to bicker, Mia sat back to look at them all. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

There was no word in any language she knew that could describe how it felt to gaze upon someone she knew she adored and know nothing but apathy. She did not understand how she could exist in the company of her favorite people and feel so cold. Sheba and Piers would take their leave in the morning. Mia knew not when she would see them again, if ever. Why should she have to put fish hooks in the corners of her mouth to smile?

Oh, to love and know you are loved, but feel absolutely nothing.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Her hands trembled compulsively as she broke from her partner with a practiced, endearing smile, and a half-baked excuse for her leave.

The musicians were striking up yet another Valean murder ballad as Mia snaked through the throng of swaying bodies, barely managing to ignore the looks and hushed, wagging tongues directed her way. She jammed herself into an inconspicuous corner table, praying the self-imposed solitude would serve as deterrent from being asked to dance. A subtle prick of irritation had her grinding her teeth. There was no reason for her to be exhausted when she had done nothing to earn it.

Jenna and Sheba had scampered off with Piers in tow to ogle the shops and games lining the streets. A mildly intoxicated Kraden was trying to convince the elders to build a library in his name. At some point, Isaac, Garet, and Ivan clambered onto the makeshift stage and booted the musicians off. They took to entertaining the crowd with copious bickering and recounted tales from the quest. Greatly exaggerated tales.

On a whim, Mia wondered what this celebration looked like years ago, when it was in a different location, and the people were whole and happy. Did the scene before her pale in comparison to what once was? Did Felix used to enjoy these kinds of gatherings? Where had he gotten off to, anyway?

She wished she could sneak off with him like they usually did when things grew too overwhelming, but he wasn't here.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

One thing she liked about Vale was that no matter how hot the day, the evening always heralded a cool breeze. Mia wobbled around on the low ridge where she, Piers, and Felix had sat a few months before.

Her heart clenched its fists. It was times like these, when it was all she could do to keep her head on straight, that she craved the halcyon days the most. Her father's hand drifting through tall grasses. Craning her head to admire the butterflies floating above. Crooked, gritty castles of white sand. The rain. (Gods, it felt like it may never rain again).

Mia found herself wanting to cry without any obvious explanation. Stricken by a deep despair, the sadness swelled from marrow to skin, shimmered in her eyes, twisted the folds in her throat. Something baleful loomed over her shoulders, grinned and waved hello. If she asked nicely enough, maybe it would let her be, and she could endure the celebration. She shouldn't be out here wallowing when her friends were leaving in the morning.

At the edge of the ridge and the edge of reason, Mia thumbed the cold rock Felix had given her, and watched the blue pull back from the sky. Her heart beat uncomfortably in her chest. It appeared to know something she didn't.

A vague notion of homesickness tormented her. She needed to find her way there, wherever that place may be, and whatever it may be. When stillness and reflection failed to satisfy the claustrophobia, Mia roamed. Wilted grass tickled her ankles as she traced a meandering path through the prairie, arms crossed over herself, small and quiet.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

"Mia!"

She turned towards the call. Red light from the homes edging the village winked in her periphery, but she inexplicably had trouble placing her location.

Garet jogged up to her, scowling. "What the hell? You're going to take off like that and not tell anyone?"

Venom pooled in her mouth, unasked and unwarranted. "I'm sorry," she snipped. "It must run in the family."

Garet recoiled at the hot words. Mia used to believe that nothing in the world was more crushing than seeing Garet hurt and being unable to do anything for him. Now, she understood it was far worse to be handling the knife.

Visceral guilt seared her detached isolation as she became wildly aware of the fact that she had inflicted harm on her friend. Her lips parted, searching in panicked desperation for some word, some phrase she could utter to make him feel better, or make his eyes less wounded. Nothing came. Her jaw clicked shut, and she turned from him in shame.

Garet stepped forward. Mia watched from beneath her lashes. His arms lifted in the silent offer of a hug. When she went rigid, he huffed, "Let me hug you, you idiot."

A thick lump sat at the base of her throat, and she was a moment in accepting his offer. She stretched up on her toes to cling to his neck, and his arms wound around her waist and shoulders, always mindful of her hair. Garet always managed to envelope her in the softest, warmest hugs. Right now, it felt a little bit like the relief of sleep after a grueling day. She hadn't realized that she needed a hug this badly.

The tap of his heart against her chest served to ground her. Mia tucked her face under his jaw, reminiscent of all the times he was a pillar of strength and comfort to everyone around him. Isaac had leaned on his shoulders an innumerable amount of times. He had carried Ivan more times than the latter would care to admit. And in the boldest, most heartfelt, most pointless exercise of friendship she had ever witnessed, he had jumped off of a lighthouse after her.

She gave him a squeeze before dropping back to the ground. He caught her forearms on the way down, and rubbed with his thumbs while he peered into her face. Mia let him search her. Of all people, Garet's stare was the one she had never been uncomfortable with.

By mutual, unspoken agreement, they settled onto the cool grass. The sky swathed itself in navy, and the mountains dressed in apathetic black. Cold stars watched from overhead, unmoved as ever. Mount Aleph shone at their backs. The strange lump of fire and ash prevented total darkness from ever falling on Vale. Garet hooked his arms around his knees, and waited a beat before speaking. "What's going on?"

Mia pulled her fingers through the grass, mind flitting through all kinds of escape. "I'm sorry."

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. "Talk to me, goose."

"Do we have to speak? Can't we sit here?"

"Yeah," he obliged, voice climbing into a pacifying tone. She pretended not to see the worry spread across his face.

Not one minute had passed when he spoke again. "Can I ask something, though?"

The corner of her lips quirked. "Anything."

"Does it have anything to do with Felix?"

With halted breath, they both stared dead ahead, considering which path of glass was best to tiptoe across. "No. That's not it."

Withdrawing his arm, Garet hunched with elbows on knees, fingers digging into his hair. "I don't know."

Mia examined him with quiet intensity. "What don't you know?" Their whispered words struggled to penetrate the humid air. While she was terrified of fighting with him, he seemed equally worried about treading on her toes. Normal for her, odd for him.

"You and Felix," Garet muttered. "I don't like it."

She drew back from where she was leaned against him. "Why?"

"Just…" He scratched the stubble along his jaw. "You were fine when I came to get you from Imil. But you've been different ever since you started spending time with him. And...I don't know."

Guilt consumed Mia once more, this time because her erratic behavior had incriminated Felix. The last thing he needed was a rift in their group. "Garet." Her voice had gone hoarse. "It's not him. Trust me."

His eyes caught hers and held them in an unrelenting grip. "You can tell me."

"I am telling you." She pressed her hand into his arm in a plea for understanding. "I'm...I'm sorry that I've been different."

The way his expression shifted made her wonder if she was missing something. "Don't apologize. It isn't your fault."

"It isn't his, either."

"Not entirely, no." Garet shook his head. Though the movement was minuscule, the amount of derision it articulated was monumental.

"Not at all," Mia rejoined, aware that the medial line she straddled was disintegrating.

"Look at the way he treats everyone. The only time he interacts with us is if it's forced. He barely goes to see Jenna. He always skips out on you—and don't even try to tell me it doesn't bother you. He's never here."

"Garet, that isn't fair. The villagers—"

"The villagers?" he snapped. "What about the villagers? They give you grief and you still get your work in. Difficult times aren't an excuse to not be around for the people that need you."

Mia rocked back on her hip, eyes trained on the grass. "He tries. He's been through a lot. And I'd appreciate it if we could stop discussing this now."

"We've all been through a lot." Tension flourished in Garet's arms, and his eyes burned. "Why don't you say anything to him?"

Sensing that they teetered at the precipice, Mia turned her face with a mumbled apology.

"Don't shut down on me. I know it bothers you. More than it normally would." Garet's voice strained around the delicacy of the issue, and his following iteration had far more weight than the previous. "Why don't you tell him?"

Mia blinked, chewing on the revelation. Though she was aware of her growing affection, she tended to be clinical, and never bothered to address or understand it. Apparently, Garet had assigned meaning to her behavior on his own time. Her hand reached down to tear up the grass, blade-by-blade. "There's no point."

"Why not? Worst he can say is no." There was an odd note in his voice. One almost hopeful.

"That's still a rather unpleasant thing," Mia scoffed, but her scorn was lacking. "And say something came of it."

"Okay?"

"There's two ways it would end after that. Either he walks away, or I'll wake up one morning and he'll be dead. Whether it be twenty minutes or twenty years after, it won't be worth it."

"Don't say that. You're just moody because it's hot."

She continued ripping up the grass, roots and all.

"That's...horrible, Mia." Garet's shoulders fell, and he looked small. Clarity rushed onto his face without warning. "That's why there's always so much push and pull with you? That's how you feel about all of us?"

All of her relationships were afflicted with the same stain of detachment. Mia sometimes wished she was a little bit younger so she could show love without remorse. But, no love would ever be without the pain of its loss.

When Garet understood she would no longer engage, he turned from her, but did not leave. They sat in the grass in silence.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

The celebration was at fever pitch. Obscure as a shadow, Mia reintegrated into the horde. People drifted closer and further, blurring as they walked, voices shrill and indistinct. Time lurched and paused. She settled down at a table, blinking and breathing and thinking as if a great pressure impressed itself upon her. Little by little, her bones hardened to the heaviest ore, and her joints calcified to their ultimate stiffness.

On the occasion she was asked to dance, she wore her smile like a veil and accepted without complaint. The warmth from a man's hands was inconsequential to her cold. All the color was draining from everything, oozing onto the ground. Even the flowers were weighted with suffering.

She was remote and removed, and life was a song she could barely make out through the walls of her prison. Whatever she perceived was muted: shadows dancing across the paper doors in Xian, silhouettes through stained glass. The hazy visages taunted her, and she pressed her ear to the walls, desperate for contact and solidity. Only the ragged ends of their muffled voices reached her. Tattered syllables hanging in space.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

The woman grinned like a cat, bending at the waist to peek at Ivan. "Really? The girl as your reinforcement?"

Another girl, a friend, presumably, tittered into her glass and called, "Evangeline, you dumbass, stop!" The gaggle of people around her whooped and laughed.

Ivan's red-faced attempt to shuffle out from behind Mia was coolly denied. "Mia, it's fine—"

"Yes. Let's be on our way." A cruel grip on her shoulder sent her spinning around. Mia put her hands up in peace. "We don't want any trouble. All we ask is that you leave us be."

Evangeline's hand flashed out to grab Mia's sash and jerk her forward, eliciting gasps from the people around to witness. "Filthy viper." Her eyes rolled up and down Mia's relaxed posture. "Where do you get off waltzing into our sanctum?"

Her smooth tone juxtaposed the severe words, and the hostile demeanor contrasted a young, pretty face adorned with a lop-sided smile. Mia looked her up and down, hands still in plain view. "Ivan, go get Isaac, please."

Evangeline stepped closer, invading Mia's space. Mia didn't budge. The distance between their faces was just short of her eyes going out of focus. "You know me."

"I'm sorry, but you're mistaken—"

"You just don't know that you know." Alcohol-sweetened breath fanned across Mia's face. "My father and brother left me behind. Send me gold when they can, like they're paying me off. Could've been here with them now, but they left me here alone. For Kalay," Evangeline spat with a wretched look to Ivan, who stood stock-still at Mia's hip.

Untempered empathy stabbed the backs of Mia's eyes. The dust of a million regrets coated her useless throat. That was who she was. Always at fault. Always apologetic. _I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry_—

She couldn't be like Isaac, could never subscribe to the cost of business attitude he showcased with his own flesh and blood. Who was to know if Evangeline's family was still living after the earthquakes in the south? Could Mia posture herself above and act as though the supplicants in Vale should have known better than to live so close to salvation?

Evangeline poked Mia obnoxiously in the shoulder, to the point of pain. "You know me, and I know you. I saw that blue-haired man passing through before Mount Aleph blew its top. I've heard people talking."

The comment flew straight under Mia's skin. She advanced. Evangeline begrudgingly yielded the space. Ivan's pleas to the contrary went unheeded. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Evangeline drawled, crooked grin spreading back across her winsome features.

"You were handsy with my friend a minute ago, and now that I'm obliging you, you do nothing? Have you no teeth to bare?"

One of the rowdy friends called, "Uh, Eva, Blue might actually hurt you."

"_Quiet._" Evangeline issued objurgation without breaking eye contact, mouth twisted into a grimace. The next second, the coy, poisonous grin was right back where it belonged. "I'm not Abraham. I'm not stupid enough to attack a healer." She patted Mia's cheek harshly, like she was thinking about slapping her. "And you look like you pride yourself on being a good girl. But we both know how it is. You've got rotten blood in you."

"Then do something about it. Give me what you think I deserve."

Evangeline's smile plummeted from her face for the final time, and the smooth lilt transposed into a snarl. "You deserve worse than I could ever give you, cunt." She spat in Mia's face.

Ivan surged forth, seized with anger. "_Hey_—" His lunge was so sudden that in her drunken stupor, Evangeline startled backwards and fell. Shouts went up. Onlookers ran over to mitigate the fracas. Ivan looked ready to say more, but elected to drag Mia away. They conducted their retreat under the searing stares and boisterous taunts of the villagers.

The shock to the system left Mia in a stupor as Ivan led her to an old ash tree, and she was a moment in finding her voice. "Did she hurt you? Why were you alone?"

Without warning, Ivan dropped her wrist and whirled. "What is wrong with you?"

Alarmed at the steel in his normally passive tone, Mia curled her hands to her chest on reflex. "I…"

"I understand if you feel you have some self-loathing to do, but that is not the way to go about it. Talking like you wanted her to punish you...where's your head lately?"

She looked away, fingers interlocked nervously, hoping to pacify his anger with silent submission. Ivan's shoulders heaved a sigh, and he offered her a handkerchief so she could clean her face properly.

Dozens of small, twinkling candles were strewn about in the branches of the tree. Ivan leaned against the trunk heavily. "Let's keep that to ourselves." The dully flaming torches at Mia's back made shadows ebb and pull across his face. "Mia."

She acknowledged him in shamed silence.

"Where are you?"

Ivan's eyes caged her own, anything but friendly. It was a cat gazing upon an injured bird. A fox with its nose down a hare's burrow. Ivan saw her, and she could not hide. "I don't know," she whispered.

He crossed his arms, wide eyes contemplative. "Are you well?"

"Of course." Mia offered her customary half-smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't have to lie."

"I'm sorry."

His eyes glistened in the firelight, limpid and sharp. "Is it Sheba and Piers?"

Guilt tapped its way up and down her vertebrae. Her hands throttled each other. "Yes. Partially."

"Partially?"

"I had a poor night's sleep. I'm drawn a little thin." _I'm tired_ was too soft a description when she felt lifeless as a puddle of water. She was so tired she never wanted to move again.

Ivan stared through her in a way that lent itself to disbelief. A curtain dropped, another raised. A gloom pressed into the corners of his eyes, and he looked old as dry bones. "Are you happy, Mia?"

She shook her head, and touched his wrist in an expression of earnestness. "Yes, of course," she breathed. He was watching her, wanting her to look at him, but something stuck her eyes to their hands.

"If something's going on I would like to know." Now, Ivan's tone was so stern that Mia's eyes jumped to his. "I know you're not a chatterbox, especially when it comes to yourself, but put me at ease here." He squeezed her hand, and let it fall back to her side. "With what happened just now, and that dream...I've been worried."

Mia dodged his vulnerable eyes, stamping on the instinct to take away his burden and protect him. She wasn't ready to articulate what the issue was, much less admit to herself and the open air that something had gone deeply, horribly wrong. When the urge to save Ivan from his fears decayed, it took a piece of her with it. "Nothing is going on, Ivan. I need to catch up on some sleep, is all."

Ivan uncrossed his arms with a rigid jaw. "Okay," was all he said before pushing off the tree. Mia's heart stuttered in its cage. He was upset. She had managed to upset Ivan. Consideration and respect of privacy was one thing. Feeding him lies was another.

He left her standing alone in the dark beneath the ash tree.

* * *

**A/N: **"Lightfighter" is an exit off Highway 1 in Cali, and Levant is an itty bitty little thing in the middle of Kansas.

Pardon the giant note, but it is entirely pertinent.

I wanted to explain my thought process. Instead of simply reading about depression, I wanted to provide an experience. Disregarding the efficacy of its execution, I've tried to accomplish this in a few ways:

1) I've spent the last eleven chapters associating these (;; ;;) with a sizeable timeskip/significant setting change so I could use them as a tool to evoke disorientation. Depression is a time warp. That's what I wanted to emulate by cutting the festival up nonsensically instead of keeping it whole. Short sections, lagging scenario. Missing everything happening around you, still wondering why on earth it's never-ending.

I keep chapters (primarily) episodic to reinforce the effect, like you're losing your time/can't keep track of it. The non-linear timeline serves this purpose as well. One day you look back and realize your whole life has smeared into a seamless, sepia-toned nightmare.

2) After much consideration, I decided to keep the settings sparse. Exploration and world-building are fun, but feeling stifled is more to the point.

3) Giving away my twists in the beginning may seem counterintuitive, but I was always chasing a feeling, not shock value. You read through all of these triumphs, defeats, and tender moments knowing that absolutely nothing will come of it. Everything that was set up will happen. Hopelessness. Wondering what the point is.

The idea of reincarnation is to create a suffocating, never-ending loop of suffering. An inescapable cycle, unable to be reasoned with. Nothing you can do about it. Doomed to agony you did not ask for. Again, hopelessness. The prologue ties into this as well.

Words often fail us, or are woefully inadequate, so I wanted to find a way to communicate these feelings through the story structure. This is what I came up with. So, when designated despairing character Fizz says, "There's no point in doing anything ever again," you can empathize. Maybe.

And now that I sound like an uppity bitch, thanks for reading. Hope everyone's week is well.


	13. VIII: Spout::Smother

_Chapter Eight_

smother  
\SPOUT\

The door slammed against the wall.

"_Hey_."

Footsteps, light and agitated, tapped across the floor.

"Where were you?"

A slight pause. An angered breath.

"Real kind of you to come see Sheba and Piers off. They waited for you, you know."

Excoriating silence, broken by short, hot breaths.

"And now you're going to ignore me. That's fucking great."

A sharp slap echoed through the house when Jenna's hand clapped against her thigh. "Mia, what the hell?" Her breathing grew heavier, more enraged as time drew out. "I'm not an idiot, Mia, I know you're not asleep."

Jenna hissed in aggravation. "Whatever." The tapping of her boots trailed away. The door slammed shut. Hours worth of time slipped across the grainy walls.

The door opened with a low click. If someone was approaching, their footsteps were silent. The mattress dipped with another's weight. A warm body pressed flush against her back, and an arm cinched around her waist to pull her close. Jenna smashed her face into Mia's shoulder. "Hi."

Mia stared at the wall.

"I thought something might be wrong when I didn't see you report to the sanctum." Jenna pressed a hand to her temple. "You're not warm…Mia?"

She sat up and mumbled that she would be back.

Muffled voices outside. "Well I was hoping you or Kay knew."

"I don't believe that she didn't go into the sanctum."

"I'm telling you she _didn't_. And the Great Healer didn't seem all that surprised, to be honest."

The door opened. The bed dipped. A hand clasped her shoulder. "Hey, buddy." Garet's voice, though softened, was impossibly loud. "What's going on?" The mattress warped when he twisted to look at Jenna.

"I have no idea."

"Well"—Garet shook Mia insistently—"what happened, bud?"

"She's freaking me out," Jenna hissed. "Is she sick?"

"No one else is sick."

"She's around sick people all the time."

"She's never been sick before. Kraden said Mercury adepts are resistant to illness." To test his theory, Garet took Mia's limp arm by the wrist, suspended it high in the air, and let it drop. The bone of her wrist knocked her soundly in the eye socket. She whimpered and curled away from him.

"Garet!"

"What?"

"I brought you over here to help, not terrorize her!"

"Sorry!"

"Don't apologize to me!"

Garet dismissed Jenna with an unintelligible, agitated sound. They quieted when they noticed Mia's lack of response. "Maybe she wants to be left alone."

"Should we leave her alone?"

"I don't know. But we're going to end up pissing her off if we keep bugging her."

"'Bugging her' as in clocking her upside the head with her own arm?" Jenna grumbled. Their feet were slow to reach the door. "Uhm. See you, Mia."

Mia's eyes slid shut, trapped in an invisible, impenetrable fog. The sunshine streaming through the curtains was fake; an empty platitude incapable of resuscitating the swarm of flies that was her heart. Her brain vacated her skull, and in its place, wet cement. She didn't want to feel anything. Didn't want to do anything. Couldn't imagine doing anything and remotely enjoying it. She couldn't think of anything she liked at all. She would lay there and stagnate in a life that was unusually long and cruelly abbreviated.

Night brooded overhead when the door thrust open again. "Wha—how is this girl still sleeping?"

Jenna's psynergy thrummed as she lit a few lanterns. Another pair of feet crept over. "Hey. Marathon sleeper." Garet's voice was losing its mirth.

"Have you eaten all day?" Jenna crawled over Mia and sat cross-legged against the wall. "Have you even gotten out of bed?"

Mia persistently avoided her wary, concerned eyes. Jenna exchanged a long look with Garet.

"Hey." Garet dangled a small, brown square before Mia's face. "We brought you a little somethin'."

Even the simple motion of accepting the gift seemed an insurmountable exertion. Mia's small, numb hand struggled up to receive. "Thank you," she croaked. Her hand flopped back to the bed.

If Jenna looked worried before, then Mia was unsure how to classify the severity of her expression now. "You aren't going to eat it...? It's your favorite."

Mia fixed the candy with a sullen stare, abruptly frustrated by her baseless exhaustion and disorientation. Irritation was the tip of the iceberg, and now that she had discovered something from nothing, a deluge surged within. Her eyes burned, and her throat constricted like it was trying to suction to her spine. She began to cry.

Jenna and Garet's voices cut through her open, plaintive bawling. Confused and afraid, Mia buried her face in the pillow, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. Garet's worried hand tugged her shoulder, coaxing her onto her side. Mia flinched away and covered her face with her arms, hiding from them like a child. Gulping in air and choking on it, she gasped, "Can you please leave?"

"Why?" Jenna's face betrayed her hurt at the request. "Don't you want to talk to us?"

"Alright."

"Garet, I don't think—" Following an unspoken exchange, Jenna removed herself from the bed, and asked in a hush, "Is she going to be okay by herself?"

"If she wants to be alone, she wants to be alone."

Jenna leaned down for a quick hug. "I'll come back in the morning."

Mia didn't sleep that night, held hostage by her own mind and its arsenal of blunt instruments. She found herself adrift in an ocean, unmoored from everything, suspended in water impossible to tread. It wasn't rough. There was nothing malicious about it. It was just cold, blank ocean.

When her arms gave out, she went under. As she sank, she became aware of a monster in the water. Watching, waiting to steal her in the undertow. Mia was too small to fight it, too tired to swim away. The increasing depth crushed the air out of her lungs, made every infinitesimal movement frustrating and impossible. She was helpless, and the monster swallowed everything like distance. It was their own little world. Always in tomorrow, but never quite there.

The monster shadowed her descent, cradling her close as they drifted into that incomprehensible, terrifying blue at the bottom. It whispered into her ear with her own voice. It told her all kinds of wretched things, scolded her for the smallest infractions, scorned her pathetic existence. It chiseled convictions and regrets into her bones with jagged nails.

Mia wailed for someone to rescue her. Someone needed to stab it, beat it to death, incinerate it in hell fire.

But who would raise their blade to it when it had her face?

She cried intermittently as the night wore on. On some level, Mia understood she deserved misery for shunning her friends, abandoning her duty at the sanctum, and bringing anguish to Weyard. In some unholy feedback loop, her poor decisions reinforced the notion that she was an awful person, and that she could never be anything more, thereby siphoning away any will she had to correct and better herself. The masochistic gratification of self-destruction in its many incarnations.

Above all, Mia wept because she was grown, and she never thought she would still want and miss her father this much. Every up and down was colored by his absence. She choked on her tears, because they meant she was breathing while he wasn't.

Morning. The sun had scarcely embarked on its mechanical arc across the sky when the door opened, permitting humid summer air to settle inside.

"Why am I just hearing about this?" Spoken in a low whisper, imposed upon by the assumption that she slumbered.

"You weren't exactly available. Mount Aleph isn't a short trip anymore."

The door clicked shut. "She hasn't gotten out of bed at all?"

"Not that I've seen. She's...catatonic. It's scaring me. She hardly ever sits still."

"What about the sanctum?"

"The Great Healer knows. I don't think it's going to be an issue."

"Did he allude to anything that might have happened while she was working?"

"No, and I haven't heard of anything…what?"

"I heard that she and Ivan got into it with Evangeline the night of the solstice."

"Bull. Who told you that garbage? Evangeline's a sweetheart, and you know Mia and Ivan wouldn't start anything if their lives depended on it."

"Village gossip has never been reliable, I guess..."

"...What do we do, Isaac?"

A heavy sigh. "I don't know."

"Should we…?"

Isaac hummed. "I don't know if we should risk it. Is he even around?"

"Piers said he was on the ship the night before they left. Risk it?"

"What if that's why she's like this? If they're cats and dogs right now, bringing him around is going to exacerbate the issue."

"Well, I don't think any of us can get her to talk. She...trusts him."

"...Yeah. Think we can get Ivan to mind read her?"

"And you think that won't exacerbate the issue?"

"What else are we supposed to do?" A stint of silence punctuated the question. Isaac's acquiescent voice drifted past the closing door. "Let's find your brother, then."

Isaac and Jenna returned in the evening with Garet in tow. They brought food for themselves, food Mia didn't touch, though Isaac and Garet hounded her a good deal. Having been made a caretaker when she was young, Mia did not know how to accept or react to being cared for, and that mindlessly independent mentality permeated everything she did. Likewise, the others were unaccustomed to looking after her, and were inclined to respect her autonomy at the expense of well-being. In the end, the glass of water they convinced her to drink was considered a victory.

Jenna hopped into bed and pulled Mia's head onto her lap, the boys brought chairs over, and they chatted most of the night away. Their quiet voices and atmosphere, combined with Jenna's hand combing through her hair, finally put Mia to sleep.

She had no idea what time it was when they woke her to leave. She wished she could tell them how much their company meant to her.

The next day, Mia was still lost to the fugue. The absolute sovereignty of mind over body was mortifying. She wasn't thirsty, wasn't hungry in spite of every natural law mandating she be. Muscles normally restless and sparking with energy lay dormant, frozen to stillness. Her body and mind had collected so much debt without her knowledge.

At some indeterminable hour, Fizz and Sleet materialized onto her pillow of their own volition. They sat oddly sober and silent, studying her with bright eyes. Mia grew disinterested in their spontaneous appearance and ignored them.

_You have been overwhelmed._

She cracked an eye open at Fizz's distorted voice.

_Lazy bones! _Sleet trilled as it wobbled over to nestle itself against her chest. Heart a little warmer than before, Mia put her arms around Sleet tenderly.

Fizz lowered its eyes like it had witnessed something private. _You have always thought too much_.

They remained so until someone knocked on the door. Fizz and Sleet joined her. Mia's eyes remained locked on the wall, and her body buzzed with nervous energy. A line of orange evening light cut across the house.

She became intensely, irrationally angry that he was here now, and that he had not been before. Felix was, simultaneously, the person she wanted to see the most and the least. In a chaotic surge of emotion, Mia wanted to leap from the bed and run to him, or demand he come to her. On the reverse, the impulse steepened her desire to drive him away.

Her muscles coiled as he approached. The moisture left her mouth. His weight fell upon the bed, and he grasped her shoulder with a light hand. It felt sour against her skin.

She pushed him off, firm, but gentle. "Leave me."

"What happened?" Again, he touched her shoulder. Again, she brushed him off, with more intent this time.

"Felix."

"Are you going to make us watch you struggle?"

The soft, wounded note in his voice broke her heart. "I'm sorry," she said hoarsely. "But please leave. I'd like to be alone."

"No one wants to see you hurting like this." He touched her waist.

This time, Mia threw him off. "_Felix_," she warned, noting how he tensed at the subtle aggression marring her tone. Her senses were out of proportion. Everything was a little too loud, a little too close, a little too bright.

"Let me take you somewhere," he persisted. "It's not good for you to stay cooped up in here."

Why did he need to be so stubborn? Everyone else heeded the requests for solitude. Mia's breath came thin, but her voice held steady and soft. "Felix, I'm fine. Now, please, let me be."

"You're not fine. Let me help you."

The mattress bowed. She sensed his hand descending, and pressed into the sheets as if she could integrate with them and escape the inevitable. "Do not—"

At the faintest touch on her skin, Mia snapped. She twisted where she lay in a flash of feral anger, lashing out and lurching to a crouch in the same lithe movement. Felix jumped away to avoid her mindless hand, thoroughly startled.

Disturbed on some primal level, Mia huddled in the corner of the bed and glued herself to the walls, hugging her knees and shuddering.

Felix kept his hands in plain view, throat bobbing as he searched for words. Any other given day, he would not have tolerated this outburst, would have surpassed her level and forced her in line. He was accustomed to her quiet compliance. Now, he was forced to re-evaluate his unforgiving modus operandi. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Mia pressed her cheek to the wall, watching the figures lounging on Isaac's porch through the thin curtain. Her eyes snapped round when Felix took a step forward, and she dropped her head to glare in silent warning.

"I won't touch you anymore. I just thought that..." He sighed when her eyes swivelled away. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

If she ever heard that question again—"I don't know!" she exploded, spooking both of them.

"I just want to understand," Felix stated, speaking slowly to avoid her loose fuses. He initiated a crawl forward, waxing bolder when she took no action to resent his approach. "Why don't we go for one of our walks? It's sunny out."

Here, the contrast between the two was stark. Felix preferred to obliterate his issues. Mia preferred to turn the other cheek. Overcome with exhaustion, she rested her chin against her arms, gaze lost to the world beyond the window.

"We can go to the pond. You can swim. Or I can teach you how to skip stones. You're terrible at it."

"I don't know if I'm sick or if I'm tired, Felix."

"You'll feel better once you get some food in you and get moving."

She shook her head, slow and contemplative, and crumpled to the sheets. "I need to sleep." Under her weary eyes, Felix took a seat on the floor by her headboard.

"I'm going to stay, if you don't mind."

"I do mind."

He sighed, an irritated sound he had directed at Jenna on numerous occasions. "You can't will the whole world away, Mia."

Mia grit her teeth, inordinately irked by the patronizing tone. "Fine, but I'd really like to be alone, now."

"You don't look well at all."

Nervous heat flourished in her chest, narrowed her eyes and sharpened her tongue. Accumulated stress finally bubbled over. "Why is it," Mia ground out, "that the one time I ask you to leave, you actually want to be here?"

On the floor, Felix stilled as if petrified to stone. Then, in the slightest motion, his lips curled into a grimace, a snarl. He stared her down. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. "What?"

A shock of fear raced up Mia's spine. She had seen Felix belligerent, irritable, angry. But never this livid. And never directed at her. "You weren't here—"

"For fuck's sake..."

Mia did not possess the self-awareness to understand why she instigated, why she had chosen to strike the nail so squarely on the head. Garet's words from a few evenings ago stewed between her ears. Even after all this time, any old, unconscious rage she might have felt towards Felix was smothered in shame. She never felt entitled to protest. This was long overdue, and they both knew it. "You're never here! And even when you are, you're somewhere else."

Felix's gaze hardened at her increased volume, glaring as she sat back up. "What is it you want from me, then?"

"You to even pretend you care." How unfortunate that she sounded so petulant asking for something she shouldn't have to in the first place.

"Your self-pity isn't very becoming, priestess," Felix intoned, eyes dimmed with derision.

"And what about yours?"

He let his head fall back against the wall with an uncomfortable-sounding thud. "I could have been anywhere else on this gods-forsaken rock."

Mia quailed, but her eyes retained their steel. "The door is in the same place it's always been. You're quite familiar with it."

"Would you let me do that, warden?" He threw a hand out. "They'll ask me to come right back! You always need me."

"Don't put that on me," she seethed.

"What?"

"We both know you don't want to be here. Don't make me your excuse for why you haven't left yet."

If a look could kill, she would have never been born. "You're not as untouchable as you'd like to think," Felix scoffed.

Mia bristled. "What?"

"I take time to myself. You use your work to avoid dealing with everybody and everything. Please, point out the difference between us."

"That's not—"

"You need to be needed," he continued relentlessly. "That's your pathology. You can't stand the thought of being alone. And it's not giving me any room to breathe."

"I've seen you three entire days out of the past month! How much breathing space do you need?"

"More than what your leash allows."

They were hopelessly entangled in a punitive cycle of claim and counterclaim. An arena to split open dry, old wounds. Mia knew she shouldn't be treating this as a game to win or lose. Yet, her wounded heart refused to yield control to logic and reason. "I told you to get out. You chose to stay."

"So I won't hear you bitching and moaning the next time I come back."

"I never say anything about it," she sputtered. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes, and she swiped at them viciously. She didn't want to show that she cared when he so clearly didn't.

For a moment, Felix looked incredibly contrite. Just a moment. "Only because you've perfected the art of guilt-tripping."

"Then don't come back!" Mia's heart rocked back on its heels and tore chunks from itself with cruel, bloody fingers.

Felix laughed. Sarcasm bittered the air they shared. "Sure you won't miss this?"

"I won't miss you."

Hurt flashed across Felix's face. Mia had spat the words at him with enough force that he thought she meant it. She didn't even know if she meant it.

"You're a constant reminder that I'm never going to be good enough." She swallowed harshly, failing to control the tremors in her voice. "If you weren't here, I'd be able to sleep at night without having to feel guilty for being me."

Felix leaned forward at the hips. She had never seen him look at her like that before. Like he hated her. "Do you know who you're speaking to?"

Mia's lips parted in breathless disbelief at the insinuation.

"That settles it." Felix sat back, disdain pulling at his mouth. "Keep attaching yourself to people that make you feel like shit. Says more about you than it does me."

The house was death-silent. Felix's eyes were flat, cold sheets of iron. When he spoke, his voice was soft. Pitying. "I finally understand why he wanted nothing to do with you."

Whatever happened next was a blur. She lunged off the bed. He shot to his feet. They were in each other's faces. Her throat burned and ached as she commanded her voice to a higher level than she ever had in her life. His voice was so loud it set her ears to ringing. The words passed were lost to her, but she understood they were the ugliest, most heinous things they could conjure in the moment. All the precious secrets they shared were drawn as weapons. There was no argument, here. This was a play for blood.

The door exploded inwards. Red light ensconced them. Mia was staring at Garet's back, and someone else had their arms around her waist and shoulders, caging her while Isaac and Garet dragged Felix away. Ivan watched from the doorway, mortified as she and Felix shrieked at each other like wild animals. Felix threw Isaac and Garet off and disappeared into the evening. Ivan took Jenna's place when she gave chase.

Mia was so floored that no rational thought entered her brain. Her chest heaved for air, and she glowered mindlessly at the spot she had last seen Felix in, dozens of daggers sitting in her mouth. Ivan was talking to her, Fizz was trying to tell her something, Garet looked distraught, and even Isaac was perturbed.

"She wants to be alone," Ivan mumbled as they walked out the door. "I guess she'll settle down better on her own."

Garet closed the door behind them. The red light peeled back and left Mia in darkness.


	14. VII: Eddy::Undertow

_Chapter Seven_

undertow  
\EDDY\

Ribbons of steam furled endlessly upwards. Mia watched them drift and disappear, transfixed.

A set of warm toes jabbed her thigh. "Are you still with us?"

Mia stiffened, then reached for her mug. "I'm sorry. I'm not being very good company." She brought the mug to her lips, observing for another stupefied moment. The steam slipped through her pores and fogged up her head.

This time, Jenna poked her in the ribs, inciting her to jerk and nearly throw her tea across the room. For retaliation, Mia latched on to one of Jenna's feet with a freezing hand. Jenna emitted an unholy sound from the end of the sofa, free foot lashing out with violence as she screamed obscenities. Mia, mug held far from the altercation, gripped resolutely onto her quarry and mumbled her grievances back.

A shaky truce was established, and they resumed their separate activities, involving staring at a cup of tea and patching a shirt that had torn during an earlier sparring session, respectively. In lieu of utilizing Mia's more practical lamps and lanterns, the girls had amassed every single scented candle they owned and lit them all to see what happened. It produced an abomination of an odor that would certainly cling to the house for days. The windows they were forced to open leaked a horrible chill from the night.

"Hey," said Jenna.

"Hey," replied Mia.

"Do you think Felix is coming back?"

The abrupt, offhanded delivery almost had Mia inhaling tea instead of air. "I hope he will," she whispered, trying and failing to be nonchalant. "Do you?"

"I know one of these days he's going to walk off and be gone for good. I just hope that wasn't it." Jenna leveled a calculating look across the sofa, miffed at Mia's noncommittal response. "It's been an entire month, you know. Longest he's been gone yet."

Mia pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped both hands around the warm mug, and sulked. She missed Felix more than she would ever admit, and wanted to say she was heartbroken, but didn't feel like she had much of a claim to it. Jenna was hurting, too, though her day-to-day behavior did not advertise it. Lately, they had taken to staying up all night in each other's company. They'd stare out over the forest, Mount Aleph a will-o'-the-wisp calling from the rim of the world.

"Hey," Jenna said again.

"Hey."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"Fuck the Wise One."

Mia considered this random assertion, and with a regal nod, lifted her mug in the air and drank.

"That thing can roll right back into the ungodly abyss that spawned it," Jenna snarled. "Sowing all that trouble and confusion. Pitting us against each other. And for what? A test?"

"Careful, Jenna. It might hear you."

"I do not understand Isaac's fixation." She stabbed her needles into a pin cushion as though it had personally wronged her. "Besides, if that thing is a god, some absolute being, then wouldn't it have already known we had the qualities to succeed? Was all of that really necessary?"

Mia sipped delicately at her tea, dismayed to find it had gone cold. "Maybe it was important for us to know about those qualities, too."

"Qualities be damned. I could've gone the rest of my life without thinking I'd slaughtered my parents." Jenna went very, very quiet. Mia, while acutely aware of her distress, pretended to be unaware. Jenna would not appreciate any trace of pity, realized or imagined. "I thought I finally had my family back after all this time. We're all home again, but...they're farther than ever."

The guilt wringing Mia's stomach nearly sent her running outside.

"Why my family? My parents have never done anything wrong. Felix and I haven't either, except for standing in the wrong place at the wrong time…"

Mia tipped her head back to regard the ceiling. "Punishment from the gods are gifts all the same," she mumbled dreamily.

Jenna's astonishment was palpable. "How can you say that?"

"Sorry." Mia glanced down at her distorted reflection in the tea. "My father told me that often. I was too young to understand what he meant, and he seemed to bring it up at the worst times…"

"A trait he passed down to you," Jenna grumbled, but her words lacked teeth.

"Sorry…"

Heaving an irritated sigh, Jenna lurched up and snatched the mug from Mia's hands. "Just ask next time, dingus." After handing the steaming mug back to its elated owner, she laid back down, expression more curious than affronted. "Don't leave me hanging now."

"I mean…" Mia looked back to the ceiling, cogitating. "If my parents hadn't died, and Alex hadn't left, I wouldn't have been able to connect with you like this. Would we have had so many conversations about being alone if you thought I wouldn't understand?"

Jenna shrank in on herself with a grumpy frown stolen straight from Felix's face. "You're the _only_ one I've ever talked to about it."

"It can't be all bad, then, right?"

Her frown softened in thought. "Sheba and Ivan bonded over their fake families."

"And Isaac and I bonded over the loss of our fathers." Mia gave Jenna's feet a fond pat. "I think my father meant that suffering grants you the ability to see and understand other people's suffering. Time and chance happen to everyone. It makes you more human. I think that's important."

"You've been so sensitive lately," Jenna remarked softly.

"Something good has to come of it," Mia whispered. "Otherwise...well, there has to be a point, doesn't there?"

Jenna crammed her feet under Mia's leg and picked her needles back up. "I sure hope so."

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

The next morning, Isaac and Garet informed her that she would not be working before dragging her into the wilderness.

The troupe meandered out to the pond, stopping in a logged clearing to see if they could scour up a few herptiles. Mia selected a stump to perch on while the boys roved about flipping over logs and rocks. On the occasion they discovered a critter, they sprinted over to show her, and she decided that nothing in the world was cuter than an iron-backed salamander's microscopic foot.

Their jaunt into the woods served as decent reprieve from the insidious chaos in the village. Garet and his grandfather were steadily overwhelmed by growing unrest over the earthquakes. Mia had seen to more than a few patients injured by shattered vanities and fallen decor. Isaac spent more time at Mount Aleph than ever, and Ivan became his frequent companion. To Mia's chagrin, Ivan continued to give her somewhat of a cold shoulder after her lie on the night of the solstice.

Alarmed at her newfound reclusiveness, the others did their best to keep her occupied when she wasn't working. Mia had been raised to function no matter the circumstance, but ironclad discipline couldn't keep her from disintegrating. Every ounce of energy went into the sanctum. All else suffered. Her hair wasn't clean often. Eating became a chore too troublesome to bother herself with. The house she kept so immaculate filled with clutter and dust, a source of constant upset that she had no will to rectify. Slowly, without her consent, the monster irreversibly reorganized her personality, identity, and reality.

At the thin shoreline, Garet cranked his arm back and slung it forward in a mighty arc. A smooth, thin stone raced from his fingers and darted across the pond. It was knocked astray with a resounding _clack_ by an enemy projectile. He frowned at Isaac in overt displeasure. "You piece of shit." He flinched when Isaac raised a hand in threat, then instigated a wrestling match.

Overcast, dimpled sky hovered above; an off-white, pearl-gray rather than something dark and foreboding. Mia squinted up at it, wondering how it was so bright when there was no sun.

A low whistle cut across the clearing. "What're you thinking about over there?" Garet called as he and Isaac walked over.

Eyes lost to the haze overhead, she belatedly responded, "Do either of you believe in the afterlife?"

"Uh, what, Mia?"

Isaac frowned down at her, expression unreadable. "We do. Don't you?"

"I used to take a little ignorance with my bliss, but...did you two ever explore the shores up north?"

Garet pulled a face and opened his mouth to speak. Isaac's elbow beat him to it. "No, we haven't. What about them?"

"They're different than anywhere else I've ever seen," she murmured, eyes half-lidded in memory. "I went north one day, far as I could go, and I ended up on this lonely little beach. The sky was overcast—exactly like today, really—and there was a heavy mist rolling off the ocean." Her hand rolled about in lazy demonstration.

"It was such a long walk to the water. By the time I reached wet sand, the sun was setting. It burned white on the horizon, but it was soft, not blinding. The tide pulled back so far, farther than I had ever seen one go. And it left the thinnest sheen of water behind, like a sheet of glass. It reflected everything. The mist, the sky, the sun. I couldn't tell where anything began or ended. It was all as one, this otherworldly, seamless gray sucking the color out of everything.

"...I've thought a lot about my father, and when I might get to see him again. But, what if that beach is all there is? Just cold, gray nothing." Mia turned to Isaac and Garet, not frightened or perturbed, merely sad and tired. "What if my father is nowhere?"

Her words hung over the still water. Garet cleared his throat. "Well, you're fun."

"Sorry." She pulled her feet from the water and wrapped an arm around her knees. "You asked…"

Isaac crouched next to her. "Heavy day?" he asked, head cocked.

Mia avoided his eyes to consider. Rather than deny, she nodded stiffly. "I'm sorry."

Donning an idiotic little smile, Isaac plucked a rock from the ground and rubbed it between his palms as if he intended to set it on fire. "This one's special. Try it," he suggested as he handed it off. "Don't forget to use your wrist."

His faint act of playfulness delivered the intended effect, and Mia did as instructed with a half-smile. The stone heaved a few skips before petering out and disappearing beneath the water. In an unnecessary show of excitement, Isaac and Garet threw their arms up and howled.

When she was finally allowed home in the evening, Mia closed the door with flattened palms, letting her forehead rest against the cool wood. Alex's ring was leaden in her robes. She dropped it unceremoniously onto her desk, immune to the subsequent clatter it generated. Though she was more than ashamed to have dredged it out of the pond, she could no longer bear the thought of not having it.

Mia straightened with a sniff and nabbed a lantern. Restless even after refereeing Isaac and Garet's mock-Colosso matches all day, she paced around the small house for hours, brooding and making shadows on the wall.

Sometime in the middle of the night, a tap registered on the backs of her eyes. Fizz.

_Careful_.

_I know._

The door opened without sound, and fell shut the same. Tension knotted Mia's shoulders as she sat the lantern down and turned. Felix stood at the door, she at the counter, and between them a living gulf. No eye contact on either their behalves. No hello. Nothing.

Mia worked her teeth against the swarm of words flooding her brain. Just as she was about to speak, Felix held his arms aloft. Flower settled itself between his palms. Cloaked in subdued yellow, the chubby djinni sprouted a single daffodil from its head. A reification of an apology.

_Take it,_ Flower implored when Mia hesitated.

She stepped across the house to grasp the willowy stem, whereupon it disintegrated at the base and released from Flower's body. Cradling the bloom to her chest, Mia drew back to secure a vase.

Felix cleared his throat quietly. "I didn't think you'd be up this late." His dark eyes combed over the disorderly home, bouncing between it and her with increasing freneticism. Mia groaned inwardly when his gaze cut across the cupboards. She didn't even have any food to offer him.

"Walk with me."

The air was crisp, and the full moon sat in a sky so clear that Mia spotted a ring of rainbow encircling it. Cool, dewy grass brushed their ankles. Scuffing dirt and chanting cicadas broke the otherwise still night. They wandered to the river and came to rest in the center of the bridge.

Felix crossed his arms onto the railing, close, but impossibly far. Mia's heart beat outside of her chest, and she yearned, and she suffered. Even after an entire month to cool off and reflect, they felt in a state of disrepair. She waited for some kind of signal, terrified he would reject her if she spoke first, or that she would be too presumptuous and ruin it further.

Maybe it was time to get over that. Felix looked at her curiously when she faced him. Her fingers braided with anxiety, but she looked him right in the eyes. "I'm...I'm sorry, Felix. I behaved horribly and was cruel to you for no reason at all." Aching tears welled in her eyes when she recalled his wounded expression. "I know I hurt you, and I know that an apology can't begin to soothe any of that...and I understand if you don't forgive me."

Felix blinked owlishly. "I wasn't any better. I don't know what got into me." With a heavy exhale, he slouched over the rail. "Fear does strange things to people."

Mia sighed in something like agreeance.

A moment later, Felix put his head in his hands.

"Hey…" she cooed, reaching for him on instinct, eager and willing to quell whatever caused him distress.

Sounding very much like an upset child, he acknowledged the implied question in her tone. "It's stupid."

Mia chuckled against her will. "No, it's not."

Caught in some war with himself, Felix leaned subtly into her. A rare search for comfort. Perhaps a touch overenthusiastic to reestablish trust, Mia hugged his warm, solid arm, and pressed her face into his shoulder. She didn't know if it was her, or something in her head, but it felt fake when she hugged him. Nonetheless, she waited patiently, letting her eyes close and the trickling water overtake her senses.

His words kept coming to her in never-ending waves, forcing her to question herself, every relationship, her feelings towards him, and even going so far as to permeate the sanctum. Mia was disillusioned, and while she wanted to mend what was broken, much of the desire to be close and affectionate was lost. A piece of her mourned what could have been. Whatever they had now was fundamentally altered. They lashed out at each other, seen the other at their ugliest. Mia didn't know if her words haunted Felix like his did her.

But, instead of an obstacle, she tried to convince herself to see it as an opportunity to grow together. A different brand of intimacy. It was an uphill struggle, making conscious decisions to remain positive. Creating hope from travesty.

Without warning, Felix rose to his full height. Mia wrapped her arms loosely around herself, waiting for him to speak.

"...I'm afraid."

Her heart sputtered, utterly crushed to hear those words so freely admitted. "Of what?"

"I don't know what's going to happen if I leave."

Terror blossomed from scalp to nails, but Mia held steady and serene. She had ample opportunity to lament later.

"I don't want to put Jenna through that, but...it's like you said." Felix shrugged, defeated. "I'm never here anyway."

There they were. Hateful words hanging like phantoms around his shoulders. The guilt and self-loathing invading her chest threatened to send her crashing through the bridge.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Look like that."

"I can't help it, Felix. It's my face."

The ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. "If there's one thing you should have no guilt over, it's that." He looked out north. A score of fireflies drifted through the fields, tiny beacons lighting up the darkness. "I don't know what to do."

"...Do you remember the last time we were on this bridge?"

Felix stretched his arm onto the rail, caging Mia between it and his body. "The beginning of summer. The day Sheba and Ivan came back...feels like forever ago."

They looked intently into each other's eyes, watching the play of memories behind them. "Do you remember what you said?"

"I don't remember what I said two minutes ago."

Mia ducked her head to hide her smile. They stood so close that the rough fabric of his tunic brushed against her face. "You told me that my life is my own, and to do what I want. After everything that's happened to you...I think you should follow your own advice." Here, she discovered an impasse. Trying to honor both Felix and Jenna's feelings was a hell of a ship to captain. "I know how much you love your sister, and I know you'd never want to hurt her, but it's okay to put yourself first. You're allowed to take up space."

"How do I know what's right?"

"I can't give you the answer to that."

"Then, what would you suggest?"

Mia was struck with the suspicion that Felix did not seek advice, but a specific response from her heart. One she could not give him. "If you want to go, then stay. But if you need to go...go."

They walked a loop through a village they lived in but weren't quite familiar with. There was something mystical about prowling through the houses while everyone slumbered, a thing exhilarating and eerie all at once. Felix concluded the trip at his home, where he conjured a few vines leading up to his window.

Mia held a delicate hand to her chest. "Ah…"

Felix took her wrist and led her up.

Light from a few dim candles orchestrated a play of light and dark against the walls. Felix threw himself down on his bed to remove his boots. Mia curled up on her hip next to him, eyes flicking over a low table filled with wood and carving tools. Evidence of frustration lay in several half-completed projects, a plethora of coiled scraps, and deep scores in the tabletop. Felix jostled her as he swept his cape from his shoulders. "Admiring my tree chunks?" he deadpanned with a smirk that carried all the way over to her face.

"Is it alright for me to be up here without your parents knowing?"

He flapped a dismissive hand. "They love you. Think it's adorable you check on everyone all the time."

"Okay…"

"So." Felix kept his voice low, and he sat with elbows on knees, hands clasped. "What happened that day?"

Mia fussed with her hair. "What day?"

He cut her a look both exasperated and fond. "You scared everyone half to death. And you're different."

"Different?"

"Your face looks different."

For all that Felix was probably right, Mia had a difficult time believing. At some point, normal took on new context. She was unaware that this way of being had bled so much into her routine when she tried so desperately to keep it bottled. To her, it was as if life had always been this way.

"I used to think there was nothing anyone could do to provoke you, but...tell me."

"Why?"

"It's obviously affected you."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Mia…"

"I'll get over it," she grumbled, not understanding why her brain demanded she wreck everything this instant.

"I'm not sure that's the case."

"How can you possibly know that when you haven't even been here?"

"Okay." Felix held his hands up, pacifying. "I get it. I'll give you a minute."

Mia blinked stupidly as he went to gather something to entertain himself with. Somehow, he knew to interpret her words not as a personal attack, but as insight to her inner turmoil. His patience and tolerance would outmatch whatever storm of emotion she counteracted with. This would not be like last time.

Mind flying through escape, dread pooling in her belly, the facade slipped to reveal rage as hurt and terror. Mia began to tremble, her brain screeched to a halt, and she completely shut down.

Felix, while blatantly concerned, maintained an air of relaxation. He returned with an illustrated book about rocks, and read with it tilted in Mia's direction in case she decided to partake. When her breathing started to even out, she scanned it half-heartedly.

Despite the lack of hostility, it felt like she was being pried apart, forced to comply rather than engaging on her own terms. She wanted to wait for time to do its flawed work, to plug her leaks with wads of paper and pray she would float. The pain should have burned itself out by now, but she was the one crumbling to ashes while it raged on. It misplaced her time, stole her hope, sapped her energy. She perched on the edge of its blade while it skewered her days, watching as they collapsed and bled seamlessly into one another, into an emotionless, pallid blur. A life on standby. A finely tuned nightmare.

When Felix had burned through a quarter of his book, Mia's weary eyes looked to the charcoal drawing posted to the wall. Jenna had something similar in her room: caricatures of the four when they were children, a gift from a traveling artist. The little pictures of them so happy and young never failed to soften her heart.

Though she did not approve of playing favorites, Mia had come to think of Felix as a sort of best friend. His only wish was to help, and he had established goodwill through his own vulnerability. There was no reason it wasn't safe to reciprocate.

Pages of the heavy book dragged against one another. Mia looked down with a little frown. "Oh—turn back. I didn't finish."

Felix snorted, and instead closed the book to look at her expectantly. Regretful from earlier, Mia met his eyes briefly and leaned on his shoulder. His fingers grazed the back of her hand in response.

"I don't know where to begin," she murmured, tone bleeding defeat.

"Is it your father? The anniversary is coming up."

Mia looked up in surprise. "You…? No. I mean, that's part of it. I think." She pulled the ribbon out of her hair and ran her fingers through it.

"Your nerves?"

"Yeah," she said through a shaky sigh. "I'm not sure how to explain."

"Try."

Mia bit the tip of her tongue in an attempt to stave off tears with no obvious origin. "It's not as if anything is wrong. I have my work. I have a home. I don't worry about food. I have all of you."

"I don't understand."

"I don't either." She fidgeted with the ribbon, wrapping it around her fingers and pulling until they turned white and red. "So if the problem isn't with anything else, then...I'm the problem."

Felix leaned forward, quiet and attentive.

Mia avoided his eyes, left without a single clue to pinpoint and articulate the dilemma. How on earth was she to tell him about the voice that whispered, the one that screamed, the one caught in a broken loop, the other incessantly refreshing her on everything she had ever done wrong? It would be a simpler task to explain algebra to a dog. "I feel…disposable."

Felix bumped her shoulder when she retreated into herself.

"Uhm. Why did your parents have children, Felix?"

He hummed in thought, dark eyes moving about in search of a response. The rumble of his voice was an instant comfort, and Mia's sore eyes slipped shut, only to snap open when he spoke. "They always wanted a family. One boy, one girl."

"That's where you and I differ. Your parents wanted you. My parents needed me." Her voice was so soft Felix leaned in to catch it. "They anticipated working themselves into early graves, and they needed someone to watch over Imil when they were gone."

"You planned on working yourself to death? As a child?"

"Something has to kill you." She shrugged helplessly. "Why do I get to escape that when they didn't?"

"...I'm not following how that makes you the problem."

"Because. The only reason I exist is to heal and no one needs me."

"The sanctum needs you."

"I need it more than it needs me. The elders will have the apprentices christened soon. Imil has Hermes' water. I'm the last of my family, my Clan. What am I supposed to do?" She had always defined herself by others. She was someone's daughter, someone's cousin, someone's teacher or healer. What happened when those titles were no longer applicable?

"There are people you haven't even met that will need you," Felix said thinly.

"That's...that's another issue." Watery, terrified eyes turned to him. Her voice developed a tremor she couldn't quash. "I'm so empty. My entire life has been about giving to people. What happens when I have nothing left to give?"

Felix looked away.

"If I wasn't a healer, would I even matter?" Mia choked out. "What's the point to me?"

Pain ran through Felix's face and shoulders, and a horrified Mia realized that her stress caused him stress. She showed him her darkness, and he shied away. Of course she would never expect him to pluck magic words of solace from thin air, but his silence cleaved her in half, wrought more damage than condemnation ever could. What had she been thinking? He already had plenty of legitimate concerns, and she burdened him with her morbid abstractions?

"Sorry." She hugged herself and sniffled.

Felix took a deep breath through his nose and nodded to himself. Quiet as ever, he waited until he had her eyes before rather blandly stating, "That sounds real shit."

Mia stared for a blank second, then ducked her head to hide her laughter, wiping hurriedly at a few tears that slipped down her cheeks. "It's not very fun."

"I think you've got it bad." He cast a distantly familiar, soft-eyed look on her, one she struggled to place. Not one of pity, and not quite empathy. Rather, it conveyed to Mia that if she mentioned moving heaven and earth would make her feel better for five lousy minutes, he would do so without hesitation. "You haven't been sleeping well at all, have you?"

The reminder caused her fists to go to her eyes to scrub at them unconsciously. Felix reached behind her to pull the sheets back. "Oh, I should go—"

"We'll wake up before them and slip out."

"...Alright."

Mia laid down after changing into one of his shirts, and he slipped the sheets over her shoulders. His bed was much more pleasant than hers. It felt safer, warmer somehow, and it smelled of him. Perpetually unable to get comfortable, she bundled the sheets up and wiggled around before giving up and flopping onto her side.

"Quiet," Felix muttered from his workbench, already invested in a discarded project. "Sleep. I'm here." Inexplicably comforted by the words, and unable to resist the call of oblivion, her eyes closed.

Sleep was interrupted frequently and for no reason at all, and Mia ended up watching Felix in a daze as he whittled by candlelight. She memorized his grumpy, concentrated scowl, smiled when he made a mistake and cursed under his breath, or conversely, when he did something well and looked inordinately pleased with himself. Eventually, he snuffed the candle and laid down beside her, but was still too restless to sleep.

Mia reached out and placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, feather-light. He didn't so much as tense. She ran her fingers across his back, testing before slipping beneath his tunic to massage his shoulders.

Felix went lax in a way she had never seen. The tension in his body let go all at once, like it had gripped his bones by the very tips of its fingers. He was soft with relaxation. It was then Mia truly realized how much strain he carried. Even when she could not see his face, he looked like a different person. Careful and thorough, she took her time working out the knotted muscles, throwing in a Ply to smooth out whatever scar tissue she ran across.

Caught in a sleepy delirium, Felix grunted and rolled over. He wound a lazy, heavy arm about her waist, pulled her to him, tangled their legs, and pressed his forehead to the hollow of her throat. Surprised, but pleasantly so, Mia cradled him close. One arm pillowed his head, and the fingers of her other hand danced across his sharp face and stroked his hair.

"Sleep," she mumbled.

When he continued to fidget, she set her nails to his scalp. He fell asleep under her hand almost instantly. Whatever sadness consuming her had no bearing on this moment. It didn't matter how ambivalent she felt towards him, or that her arm was already falling asleep. It made her stupidly happy that she could do something like that for him. The kind of happy where she smiled uncontrollably, and it was all she could do to keep still and silent. Seized in thrilling, nervous impulse, Mia pressed her lips to his dark hair.

She didn't know why she said it. Another impulse, perhaps. The proximity, or the simple fact that he was there. Maybe she meant it. But, she whispered a few words into his hair, an oath, something no ears were meant to hear, and lost herself in the euphoria and terror of its implications.


	15. VI: Foam::I Send You Away

_Chapter Six_

i send you away  
\FOAM\

Mount Aleph glowed with the same intensity as twenty years prior, and the land he used to know so well had been rendered unrecognizable. Rings of desolate earth laid like ripples frozen in water. He entered the forest huddled at the base of an inner ridge, a place so dark and twisted that no light penetrated its canopy. It did not speak pleasant thoughts to him.

Sword in hand, he plunged to the far side and scaled a high wall of rock. A sombre patch of wooded grassland became visible at its apex. Here, he sheathed his blade and looked over his shoulder. The cabin resting precariously on a cliff was a mere speck in the distance. When he passed earlier, it had been well stocked, signalling that the occupants had no intention of leaving any time soon.

Ahead of him, black discs dotted Mount Aleph's base, dress rehearsal for the travesty of ten years prior. They made their decision so long ago, and it had beaten them relentlessly about the shoulders ever since. He moved forward.

Down in the valley, the ambient temperature and ubiquitous shadow put a chill in his blood. The vapor from his breath caught the fading sunlight and shimmered overhead. Beyond the bruised shade, the dipping sun painted honey across the rugged shoulders of mountains.

A dry riverbed delivered him to his destination. He recognized the area with a sort of staid satisfaction. Willow trees grew where they had no business growing. The great oaks still suffered confessions and curses etched into their bark. Deep fissures carved up the ground, scars from Weyard's evident unease. A number of ramshackled homes sat silent in the grass, though their windows were gone, and nature had enacted a punishing move to reclaim them.

At the crest of a rolling hill, at the edge of the memory box, he stopped and stared.

"...I'll be damned."

There, in the dark valley, thousands of flowers thrived. A kaleidoscope of color swallowed in shadow, brilliant nonetheless.

Bleached-white blooms sprawled among stygian shades of purple and soft tones of blue. Yellow marred splashes of red and pink. Long, thin stalks brimming with the tiniest flowers swayed above. It came as a shock that they survived so well without someone tending them. With ginger feet, he walked to the center and took rest.

The few djinn he had left romped in the flowers, giddy though they were tired as he. A grumpy, blue lump sat nearby, tail waving somberly through towers of lupines.

Seated upon his ancestral ground, the abdication of his cultural responsibility put pangs in his chest. He saved Vale, saved the world, but not for him. It broke him, but he was stronger for it. Repair required transformation. Years spent in solitary convalescence made him a better man, so he thought. Alone in the wilderness without a reflection to speak the truth to him, he could never truly understand how he had changed. Unadulterated freedom he obtained with a stiff penalty.

His two sojourner friends he had not seen in years, though he heard frequently of one. When he visited civilization for a sporadic refresher, it changed drastically each time. Weird, frightening machines rose from the ground. Psynergy crept to the forefront of all affairs. Kingdoms, swept up in greed and arrogance, bred war and strife. Everything prophesied upon alchemy's release quietly dawned on their resurrected world without anyone noticing.

The two visits he paid Kalay were twisted in bitter nostalgia: an underlying melancholy for all that had been lost, what could have been, and what would never be again. His parents rocked their days away on their seaside balcony, thin-skinned and gray-haired. His sister had long outgrown the need for him. Her husband was hailed as a savior, and they had a child of their own. Small hands, a smaller voice, a miniature tripping after them, hair gleaming in the bright southern sun.

He watched how his sister huddled against spouse and child, like the smallest space could cruelly separate them. Implacable, eternal instinct resented her newest abandonment, but he himself would be making that bed every day for the rest of his life.

It had been difficult to leave both times, with the odious sun blazing down and melting the rubber soles of his boots to the pavement, leaving him to fester in irresolution. He did not want to leave, but he had no desire to stay, either. One day, he would return to fix what he had broken. But, not quite yet.

Today, as on many, he wished they never let him leave in the first place.

He went to Imil once. Knowing full well she would never have him, he skirted the edge of town, confused when no sign of her made itself apparent. Excitement throbbed in his chest. Maybe she finally wised up and escaped it all. Recalling her two apprentices, he came cringing and crawling into the sanctum to inquire. The pair, now grown, exchanged glances and shook their snowy heads. With an uncomfortable gleam in their eyes, they invited him to their home and told him a story about a girl he used to know.

That was the last time he visited Imil.

Alone among the flowers—her flowers—the memories were unavoidable. He had been paralyzed after hearing, struck dumb, and astounded at the audacity of the earth when it continued functioning. It was something he would never get over, only grow used to. While he left her, she left everything.

He missed the weird person that trapped and released spiders and flies that found themselves lost in her home. He wanted to find her tucked up on a sofa, doodling some obscure flower he had never heard of and drinking her stupid tea; what he got was bile in the throat every time he smelled brewing leaves. A page of pressed forget-me-nots was tucked into his rucksack, possibly the oddest thing he had ever spent money on, but they reminded him of her eyes.

She brought him dinner when he wandered home late at night, and blankets when he shivered. Now, he couldn't bring her dinner, or blankets, or bring her back.

Her former students said guilt was an understandable, yet inappropriate response. They were liars. Nothing was ever going to take away the fact that he couldn't and didn't save her. The gut reaction to shelter her from whatever pain she carried he relived in a ceaseless loop. He needed to help, but he couldn't. No one could. The pain had been passed on to everyone else.

Nightfall plummeted onto his head, blotting any trace of sun from the sky. The valley stood frightfully still. Nothing stirred. No animals. Not the wind. Not the bugs he used to fall asleep to.

Down in the garden, he bowed his head and wept.


	16. V: Spritz::To Love You

_Chapter Five_

to love you  
\SPRITZ\

Oblivious stone walls crowded in. A lone lamp flickered on the table, throwing a waning sphere of light against the dark. Mia sat in a hard chair, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. The ends of her hair were gnarled and sullied. Her robes clung to her body. Her skin was painted in another's blood. Fractured, thin acrylic clutching like sin. _Guiltyguiltyguilty_—

She once believed that if a person put forth honest effort to do good and be kind, bad things would leave them be.

How utterly delusional.

Water sloshed into a shallow bowl. Rubbing her sleeve across her brow, Mia leaned forward to soothe Yiska's face and neck with a cool rag. Violent tremors ran through his small body.

A low click echoed off the stone, and Ivan slipped into the orange of the room. He sank into the chair beside Mia, face ruddied with dirt. They stared at the wall.

Though elated to see him, Mia was unsure how to conduct herself due to his aloofness. In a minimal movement, she procured a fresh rag and moistened it with the barest trace of psynergy. She reached, giving Ivan ample time to push her away. He gave no indication he even noticed her, but his eyes slid shut as she gently cleaned his face.

Ivan gained his feet when she finished. Her heart withered and drifted to the floor. Wordless, he grabbed her by the wrist, hauled her up, and wrapped her in a fierce hug.

Mia lifted her arms out and strained away. "I'm filthy, Ivan."

"You're shaking," he mumbled into her shoulder, squeezing like he could physically suppress the issue. Heaving a quiet sigh, Mia relaxed and held him with the same intensity he held her. It was a small, strange comfort to find he was still short enough that she could press her cheek to the top of his head.

Once returned to their seats, Ivan hunched and tapped his fingertips together. "You haven't been outside recently."

"How are Garet and Jenna?"

"They healed up fine. No one is coughing anymore, either." His fingers struck each other with increasing fervor, creating a muted beat to fill the blank between words. "How...how many people died?"

"We've totaled nineteen, including the bodies brought to us," Mia stated, flat tone belied by the anxious glance she threw Yiska.

"There weren't that many villagers to begin with." Ivan looked sadly at the shivering lump in the bed. "Will he pull through?"

"Yiska."

"Yiska?"

"His name is Yiska, and no, he won't. How are you holding up?"

"Been better." Ivan's small shoulders lifted in a lackluster shrug. "It's been days, but...searching for the missing using Mind Read wasn't what I would call pleasant."

Mia found herself unable to look at him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," she whispered.

"You were here. And you weren't even there for yourself."

"Anything else I should know about?"

"Uhm. We're seeing what parts of your house we can salvage, but don't expect anything extravagant."

"You shouldn't worry yourself with it."

"Yours and Garet's took major damage, but it would have been worse without the garden plants holding the walls steady. Funny how that worked."

A whine passed Yiska's lips as he twisted in torment. Mia put her hands on him, squinting at the bright light of psynergy.

"Those who want to leave Vale have already gone. Mostly to Kalay. Those that are staying have made decent progress on rebuilding, but I can't attest to much since Isaac thinks it best I stay incognito. The hangman has been busy with looters. Oh. Ah…"

Struggling to concentrate, Mia murmured a reply.

"It doesn't matter right now."

She shot Ivan a look as she slumped into her chair.

"Trust me."

Resigned to and uncaring of his deflection, Mia folded her hands into her lap and stared through the wall. There were no windows in this room, no way to ascertain the time of day, or even what day it was. She could have been sitting in this purgatory for a lifetime and known no different.

"Are you alright? Got a bit of a thousand-yard stare."

Her eyes closed and opened, blinking as if underwater. "Oh, I don't think there will be any coming back from this, Ivan," she lamented softly.

"There will be." He spoke with dwindling conviction, seeming to note they were reading from different pages. "What are you…?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Ivan's eyes darted between the chairs. "Were those his parents I saw heading away from here?"

"Possibly. I convinced them to take a break and look after themselves for a while."

"When's the last time you rested?"

Mia bristled at the accusation dripping from his tone. "We're all sacrificing our time and bodies for the greater good, Ivan. You should be familiar with the concept by now."

His eyes dropped to the floor. Mia set her teeth to her cheek. Metal flooded her mouth. "Well...what's wrong with him?"

"His legs were absolutely mutilated in the initial earthquake, and we couldn't get to him until after the fourth or fifth aftershock. It's making him sick," she mumbled, too tired to dredge up a succinct explanation. Yiska's kidneys were the first to go. Toxins from dead tissue coursed through his body. Blood turned septic. Organs went rancid. Pure Ply, Revive, and every scrap of knowledge Mia could spit up did no more than draw out the inevitable. And he was dying so slowly.

"You can't amputate?"

"Parents don't want to see him become an invalid. And amputation comes with a laundry list of its own risks."

"That's_—_haven't you told them he won't make it?"

"Of course I have." And it was far too late to try anything now. Mia understood the tragedy at hand, and did not hold the parents in contempt, but was nonetheless frustrated.

Ivan winced at the grit in her voice, but understood her ire wasn't directed towards him. "What exactly are you doing, then?"

"They want me to keep trying. Holding out for some sort of miracle, I guess."

"No one is helping you?"

"Not directly. This is an issue only Mercury's power can address." She dropped her head into her hands to moan, "And his kidneys are shot. I can't even medicate him for the pain."

Ivan eyeballed her quietly. "I haven't seen you once since the quake hit," he muttered, intent on pressing the issue.

"It's fine. The other healers are ensuring I don't keel over."

"Mia, you can't white-knuckle your way through everything."

"The least I can do is alleviate some of his suffering while I'm busy prolonging it."

"And the mental legwork you put into making everything your fault would be better spent elsewhere."

"Ivan, let me do my job." A low moan cut through the room. Mia and Ivan exchanged heavy glances. He stood and walked to the door. There, with the handle in his grasp, he waffled and stared at his feet.

Mia held an inviting hand out with a faint, knowing smile. "C'mere." The whine of a weak Ply dinned on her ears as she threaded her fingers through Ivan's hair, massaging his temples with her thumbs. He melted in her hands. "You and your headaches, you poor thing," she murmured, stretching up to kiss his forehead. "Go and rest, now."

Ivan peered down at her with wide, adoring eyes, hair all scruffed up from her ministrations. "I love you."

For the first time in ages, a genuine, tender smile curled the corner of Mia's mouth. "And I love you."

Yiska was conscious when Ivan exited the room. He watched with glassy, brown eyes, only the faintest spark of lucidity swimming within.

"Hey, honey." Mia fussed with his sheets. "Do you need anything? Are you warm enough?"

Silent and deliberate, his trembling hand grabbed hold of her own. He pressed her entire palm over his face, unperturbed by the fact that he could barely breathe. "You're so cold," he groaned.

"So I've been told. You should try and get back to sleep, sweetheart."

"I want to see my parents."

Mia could practically feel her skin losing color as she balked. "How about I wake you when they arrive?"

"No." Yiska pouted, resolutely meeting her gaze.

Never before had she wanted to run so badly, far as she could go, and never look back. To vanish completely. Mia almost broke down on the spot. None of the panic found its way onto her face.

When she helped Yiska sit up to drink, he seized in pain and delirium. His body appeared to contort of its own volition as he fell back to the bed and cried out. Mia acted swiftly, and he settled beneath her hands, tears streaming down his face, spasming intermittently. "I know. It's okay, I promise."

"Okay," he choked through tears, so young and trusting. A shuddering sigh escaped Mia's lips as she curled up on the bed. One hand she combed through his hair, the other she allowed him to squeeze until her bones ground together. It was a while before he was still again.

"Help me stay awake," Yiska gasped, agony threading into his voice.

Mia returned her hands to his chest, shuddering when her psynergy kicked in. "Hah...how would you like me to do that?"

"Tell me about the world." His eyes grew progressively blank. "I've been in Vale my entire life. I've always wanted to see it."

"It's beautiful," Mia said softly. "And it's ugly. It will change you."

Yiska managed to look her dead in the eyes to whisper with child-like reverence, "Didn't you fight a dragon?"

"Oh, one or two."

"Let me hear."

So she did. She told him everything she could think of, every detail, all the insignificant things. Ridiculous anecdotes at her own expense made Yiska laugh through his haze of pain. Mia pulled him to her chest, whispered about heroes, about stars, about the good and evil in everything. When she had him enamored, she channeled the last of her power to his heart and brain.

Yiska asked her to close his eyes as he grew fainter. When he was too far gone to understand her, Mia stroked his hair and hummed a lullaby she had forgotten the words to. Yiska eased into a blissful slumber from which he would never wake. There was one more puff of air against her throat. He went lax against her, and it was over.

And it didn't feel like much. It was a little like snuffing a candle, or shaking hands and calling a truce. Like lying down, closing her eyes, and falling asleep.

It didn't feel like much, and death didn't look like anything. What once held a wealth of thought and emotion, secrets and dreams, had been reduced to a lump of flesh. It didn't matter if she kicked it, screamed at it, threw the lamp and set it ablaze. Nothing was ever going to come of it again.

One feeling was unmistakable. The same from when her father died. They watched him go downhill for months, ignoring all signs of what was to come. The prominent veins in his neck. Swooning when he stood. Muttering on and on about the scent of wildflowers.

People told her she was a good healer, but was she? The Angel of Imil, with her halo of blood and ash. Who or what would account for this microscopic, degenerate shard of her that was happy when her father died, and happy now? Happy it was finished. That this one burden was lifted, and she would never have to worry or fuss over it again. Awash in relief and self-hatred.

Mia cleaned and covered the body in a trance. She didn't react when the parents returned, nor when the mother screamed and struck at her. She scarcely noticed the hand on the small of her back, guiding her away.

The sound of soul-rending human emotion bleeding into the main hall nearly forced Mia to her knees. Her bleary eyes drifted up, up, looking blankly at the divine images and scripture meticulously etched into the stone ceiling. Mute gods returned her gaze from all around, impassive despite a lifetime of worship. They brandished the words of their apostles, cloaked themselves in gospel like armor. There were times Mia used those platitudes to comfort others, even herself. They looked astoundingly cruel at the moment.

To think that a soul ever dared to twist the reality of grief into a rosy charade. Mia watched all those pretty words crash to pieces on the floor. There was nothing beautiful about this. Their wailing was not an élégie. Their tears were not diamonds. All that spilt blood was just red. Never roses. Never rubies.

The Great Healer stood at the altar. One lantern was available to them. He basked in its puny circle of light, robes free of dust and grime. Mia waited at its edge, bathed in cold sweat and indescribably dirty.

"I believe events past can substitute as a sufficient practical for our apprentices, wouldn't you say?" The Great Healer coughed into his knobby hand, and his eyes were black pits beneath his brows. He continued in a throaty sigh, "I will admit I was skeptical about sending so far for aid when I first hailed you. Now...I don't wish to ponder what might have been if I had not. You have served us well."

Mia bowed her head.

The Great Healer dragged his hand through his long beard, over and over, staring at the flame twisting within the lantern. "Do you also find it interesting that Yiska passed when his family was not there to witness?" His voice was thin on the stone.

Mia picked her head up, but he wouldn't meet her gaze. Compunction crept its way back up her neck with renewed vigor. "...I find it a mercy he has moved on."

The Great Healer remained silent for a time, so still not even his heavy brows twitched in deliberation. "There is no coming back from this."

She could face his wrath, any swift justice he decided to dole out. But not this. Standing there like she ripped his heart out and crushed it beneath her heel while he looked on. She was a minute in composing herself. "I...I couldn't stand by—_prolong_ it. He was a child. Why should a child suffer so horribly?"

"Why shouldn't a child suffer? He was no more important than you or I in the eyes of the gods. Their punishment is blind as justice, and in that, it is fair."

"Punishment from the gods are gifts all the same." Mia quivered with such force that her teeth chattered. "What, exactly, is the lesson to be learned here? How would you suggest I interpret this moving forward?"

"We are healers. Not gods," the Great Healer rebuked. "There are things we are not meant to understand, actions we are not meant to take." Finally, he looked at her. Clear of shadow, his eyes begged for her repentance, and he spoke slowly, leaving her all opportunity to reconsider. "Justice is not mine to deliver. But, understand that if you stand by your decision, I will no longer welcome you here."

Mia knew he wouldn't endanger her by taking it to the elders, but he had no intention of tolerating her misbehavior, either. This was his discipline, and it cut deeper than any punishment she could fathom. The man she had come to see as a father figure, so despondent with her. But, she had already forsaken one father's dying wishes to stand by what she believed was right. What was one more? Mia's jaw clicked, and her chin lifted resolutely. "So be it."

The Great Healer turned his face. "May your soul find you."

Her breath shook free of her lungs. Too wounded to do anything more, Mia backed away from the circle of light and walked out of the sanctum.

It was black as pitch. The interior of the sanctum had been dark enough to afford her some ability to see, but it didn't keep her from tripping every two feet. Mia paused at the crest of a slope. There was no moon. Mount Aleph burned over all of them, holding back true darkness, but providing no real light. She cast a lugubrious look over her shoulder at the little place she had come to think of as home.

The sanctum was where she had been the evening the earthquake struck. She hadn't thought much of it, though she found it odd she hadn't heard the usual rumbling preceding it. The altar swayed in place, dust slipped from the ceiling, kerosene sloshed about. They all waited so patiently for it to stop. Mia's hair stood on end when it didn't, that freezing coil of dread snaking along her spine. The earth roared, it rolled, bucking like Piers' ship in a tropical storm.

Lanterns and torches were tossed. Flames swallowed everything. Dust hung in the air like mist. People screamed from where they were crushed by debris, had caught fire, or as they fled from a monster giving inadvertent chase. The monsters, too, were frightened, and tore through the village, attacking the unfortunate villagers out of fear.

Thick smoke and embers soared into the sky. Ivan helped locate the living. Garet and Jenna bravely dove into burning wreckages to rescue those trapped within. Isaac arrived on the scene hours later, having been at Mount Aleph when he sensed the coming calamity. The djinni he sent in warning came too late. Felix had not been there at all.

(Was Felix okay?)

Mia had broken into the weapons shop to arm herself and protect her healers, who were in a panic and distraught over their own families. Superior in her ability to detach and be totally objective and clinical, Mia ran brutal triage. A game she was intimately familiar with. She decided who lived and who died in this disaster wrought upon Vale.

It had been a nightmare choosing between dousing flames in a home she knew to be occupied, or rendering aid to another who needed it desperately. Some were too far gone for any kind of assistance at all. Mia feigned obliviousness as she bypassed them for others with objectively better chances at living. Blocked everything out until there was nothing but the steady thrumming in her nerves.

_Cold-blooded, _the healers shrieked, awed at her callousness.

_We can't afford to waste their time._

_Soulless_, they called her. _Ice woman._

She would rather face the Doom Dragon in an endless loop, or Dullahan, anything before that earthquake. An earthquake wasn't something she could strike down. Its momentum could not be halted with ice and snow. There was no questioning it, no arguing with it. The only thing she could do was stand there and grit her teeth.

Alone, helpless, exhausted, Mia wandered through the remains of a village she didn't exactly recognize. Off to the left were mounds of dirt. Holes dotted the landscape. Her addled brain did not understand why they had been constructed. With leaden feet, she came to stand at the edge of a hole that had yet to be filled. A bloodied sheet stared back.

Mia's dull eyes flicked over the other graves. She thought of all that had been lost because of their decision, and what was yet to come.

How much further could they go? Was there darkness at the bottom of everything?

(Where is he?)

She ended up by a scorched willow tree and the remains of a house that looked like a beast chewed it up and left it to rot. Something snagged her foot as she made to step around a thick tear in the ground. Muscles too exhausted to catch herself, Mia collapsed to a shivering heap in the grime and soot.

_Go home_. Fizz's yellow eyes cut through the dark.

"I'm trying," she gasped, struggling to her feet.

_My blood, Mia, do not play games with me._

"I don't know where I am."

Its body disintegrated and formed an orb of light. _Then I will show you_.

Mia stumbled after Fizz like a moth flutters after a flame. They passed through a ring of houses with temporary walls of mud and twigs. Torches blazed at their sides. She froze at the sight of them. Dizziness washed over her. A knife twisted into her stomach, and she bent at the waist, dry-heaving. The blue light circled her head. She trailed behind.

A red haze settled onto her vision. After images scraped across her eyes. Black, blurry projections reached out, trying to take her. Smoke wreaked havoc on her lungs. The stench of burning death wrought tears from her eyes. Faint, tinny screaming echoed in her ears.

(Is Felix okay?)

Bloated, blackened corpses exploding in the heat. Tongues of searing flame licking up her arms. Slipping in blood as she sprinted to the wounded.

-if you had kept all of the djinn-

Monster's flesh yielding to her blade like pads of butter to the finest cutlery. Crying out in confusion and terror as she slaughtered them.

-if you would have thought to bring more Hermes' water-

Garet on the ground, coughing and wheezing with the force of someone vomiting on hands and knees.

-if you had only been getting more rest-

Raging fire, howling dogs, wailing, crying, screaming, screaming—

-if you had never crawled from your mother's womb-

_Where the hell is Felix—_

"Excuse me, Miss—?"

A stern hand gripped her upper arm. Mia threw it off with a snarl and knocked herself off-balance. She continued stumbling after the blue light like a mad woman.

"Hey!"

Someone's door creaked open, and a woman's voice rang out. "What is it now?"

"It's the Imilian."

"Well—what are you doing? Help her!"

"I'm trying!"

Footsteps and a squabble of voices approached from behind. Mia hobbled a little faster, but to no avail. Soft arms wrapped around her shoulders, and, soft though they may have been, curtailed her progress. The blue light faded steadily from view.

Fingers pressing against her ribs. Brushing the backs of her legs. The ground disappeared. She lost her center. A startled noise worked out of her chest, hands flailing and gripping onto coarse fabric. The smoke stuck in her nose she now recognized as cigar smoke. The blue light was gone.

"Careful of your back..."

"S'okay. She doesn't weigh a thing."

"Lucky you saw her before someone else, poor dear." The speaker cradled Mia's face. "Hurry, bring her inside and make sure no one sees. I'll watch over her if you go find Isaac or whoever."

Mia's head lolled back with the sway of the body holding her. The stars were listless streaks and smears against the black sky. Resurrecting an old fascination, she desperately wished she could be among them; go there, be gone, off of the earth, so far from everything.

As she wished and prayed, the stars faded, and all she could see was the black.

* * *

_Yiska_, meaning "the night has passed."


	17. IV: Steam::Don't Follow

_Chapter Four_

don't follow  
\STEAM\

"Sh…"

There came a puff of breath against her fevered skin. Something soft and warm followed, pressed gently above her brow. Mia twisted, scrunched her eyes and pushed her hands out at whoever was there. Pressure was applied to her collarbone, holding her still.

"Relax."

She lurched to a sit, blind, chest heaving with stuttering breath. The tang of blood reached into her nose and twisted her empty stomach. The same pressure returned to her chest, easing her back down. It moved to rest against her face. "Why does it look like someone struck you?" The flash of gold following the question forced her eyes shut.

Resigned to blinking the world to clarity, Mia eventually found Felix proffering a glass of water. At her unresponsiveness, he sighed, "You look horrible."

The sandpaper of her voice worked out of her chest as a dry whisper, but it was loud. Way too loud. "Where were you?"

Felix looked away.

Against his mumbled warnings, Mia struggled up to survey her surroundings. They were on the floor of her house, though nothing remained sans the dusty mattress and some of the washroom. The other three walls and the roof had collapsed, and the slabs of earth compensating for them permitted a chilled draft to seep deep into her marrow.

Mia gave Felix a nervous once over. He appeared unharmed, and returned her gaze with soft brown eyes. The awful, crippling guilt she delayed came forth to consume her, bats rushing into a cave. "I killed someone," she choked.

"We all did."

"Not like that." Her next breath came in the form of a ridiculously shrill inhale. She drove the back of her wrist against her mouth and seized the skin between her teeth, desperate to stifle tears. "I didn't know what else to do!" she howled.

Calm and firm, Felix pried her arm away from her face and grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. It was all Mia could do to keep from sobbing. Now, more than ever, she wanted him to be gentle. "Do you blame me for their death?"

It was a moment before she could sputter an answer. "No."

"Do you hate me for causing this calamity?"

"No."

"Do you think me worthless for not doing more?"

"No!"

"Then why do it to yourself?" Felix released her face, but his eyes held hers in a vice. "You should get cleaned up."

Mia, who had never in her life worried after water, gave pause. She didn't have it in her to conjure a single drop for the time being, let alone enough to fill a tub. If the remaining option was to trudge back and forth to the river, then—"I want to sleep."

Felix patted her thigh in a disarming fashion. "You're a little ripe."

"I'm a little tired."

"The tub is filled."

"When's the last time you've had anything to eat?"

Felix huffed, and she thought she might have seen him roll his eyes. Leaning over to cup her calf, he slipped her boot from one foot, then the other. Mia tilted her head back and watched in quiet, aching silence. "Go."

Mia grabbed his hand between both her own. Not entirely certain what she needed to convey, she kissed his palm, letting her lips linger. She rose unsteadily to her feet, too shy to look for his reaction.

"S-sorry. I'm really happy to see you."

Caught in a trance, Mia stepped into the washroom and peeled her robes off. Dust and flakes of blood floated to the floor, encircling her. The tub stood full in the center of the room. The sight made her chest go fuzzy.

In the tub she languished for a lifetime, utterly blank, pictures screaming behind her eyes. Days worth of dried blood turned the water candy pink. Her stomach churned. She disappeared beneath the surface, wanting to retreat to one of her favorite places, but was unable to find it. Despair and frustration left with nowhere to land, Mia screamed, forcing air out of her lungs with such violence that the veins burst in her eyes and her throat was rent to ribbons. A distorted, inhuman voice came back to her. She shot up and sat panting and shaking. The dirty water stung her eyes.

Some time later, she was able to feel physically cleansed. Her eyes drifted over her shoulder as she reached for a towel. Endeavoring to fry her very last nerve, her one remaining tether to sanity, a doppelgänger watched from the mirror.

Mia saw a pastiche that wore their haunts in plain view. Gaunt-eyed, loose-haired, self-loathing creeping at the edges of their eyes. She saw melancholia. An incomprehensible, harrowing, incurable malady. The darkness of the human heart she had rejected for so long. And Mia could no longer deny.

She struggled out of the tub and stepped to the vanity. Small, trembling fingers settled against the glass. The reflection mimicked in a painfully synchronized orchestration of muscle and bone. Her fingers arched, digging her nails in. Her hand flew back. The trembling fingers formed a fist.

Her fist slammed into an open palm.

Mia startled so badly she moved to strike. Felix held firm.

"Stop."

She stared up at him from under a sheet wet hair, gasping. "You scared me," she observed pointlessly.

"You didn't answer when I knocked, and I couldn't hear anything…" Felix moved to stand behind her, keeping his nervous hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry." Sick with exhaustion and hunger, Mia swooned into his chest. Her hair soaked his tunic.

"Easy." Felix placed his hands on her waist, keeping her steady. The next second saw Mia holding her breath as he leaned forward to press his cheek to hers. It was a warm, affectionate gesture, and her heart skipped so many beats it hurt.

The stubble along Felix's jaw was rough on her cheek as he leaned into her. His breath skimmed across her skin a little quicker, and his heartbeat raced against her back. Mia's body mirrored his, reacting to the proximity. If she angled her head just right, just a few millimeters over, she could touch her lips to his. In this moment, in desperate need of release, she could not recall wanting anything this much in her life.

Her hands moved to cover his, spread heavy across her hips. Their heads turned in tandem. Her lashes brushed against his face. They watched each other through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Their breaths intermingled, then stalled. Her eyes drew shut. His nose skimmed hers.

At the faintest bit of contact, Mia pulled away.

The silence that followed was the loudest she ever heard. Felix went stiff in response to her tension, but neither moved away from the other. When their breathing was back in order, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head. "You should rest now," he murmured, though he made no move to release her. He was blessedly warm, and Mia squirmed further into his embrace. She was so cold she might never be warm again.

Despite her most fervent wishes, the lumpy mattress offered no relief to body or mind. Mia curled up with her back against the wall. Felix sat on the edge of the bed. "I've heard that your apprentices performed superbly," he said, not quite looking at her. "When are you to report back to the sanctum?"

Her tainted stillness served as sufficient answer.

"...I'll leave you be." Felix stood, tall and proud, and walked away. Mia watched him go. When he opened the door, she all but lunged off the bed. The breath left his body in a wheeze when she collided with his back and wrapped her arms around him.

Mia pressed her face between his shoulders, practically suffocating herself. "Stay." Her voice was a tiny, fragile thing.

His heartbeat and muffled breath roared in her ears, gradually dwindling from their high as time wore on. The drawn out lull took the opposite toll on Mia.

Felix exhaled through his nose, long and quiet.

The door swung shut.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Mia and Felix tucked themselves away the following week, as did Ivan, who was cooped up in Isaac's home. Most of their time was spent rebuilding their houses and avoiding Vale's general population. When she wasn't involved in construction, Mia sulked around her house and garden, merely existing between bouts of vacancy and Felix begging her to eat something.

It was in this week that word of mouth delivered the news that Goma Cave had sealed up. The surrounding mountain range, especially this late in the year, was far too dangerous to traverse. Piers could get her north in an extended seafaring holiday, but Piers was nowhere to be found. Sheba had disappeared with the Teleport Lapis. For the foreseeable future, Mia had no way to get home.

Out among the dying flowers, she watched Jenna and Felix walk into their house, silhouettes lined in rust from the dipping sun. They had spent more time together in the past week than they had in the past year. Mia crouched to add another sprig of rue to the growing bundle clutched to her chest. The little evergreen was taking over the garden. It seemed impossible to contain.

Near the corner of Garet's house, a rather massive garden spider put up a valiant struggle to crawl back to its web. Slow as she could, Mia offered a hand. The spider bunched up, effectively halving its size in a borderline-pathetic display. Mia waited for longer than any sane person would, but she wasn't in a particular rush to do anything.

As she readied to forfeit the pointless endeavor, the spider unfolded itself to consider. With great caution, it reached a leg out to tap Mia's middle finger. It administered a similar treatment to her index, prodding it like an explorer toes a rickety bridge. Having ascertained its safety, it crawled onto her hand. It moved slowly, like it was very tired, and concluded its trip at the crook of her elbow, where it fussed with its many legs.

Like paper ignited, Mia was arrested with humility that this tiny thing put its life in her hands. It was gentle and curious in a morose sort of way, and others like it had been erased from existence for simply occupying space. The bonds tendered between humans and nature were something to marvel over, with their dazzling imperfection and impermanence. It filled her with an odd sadness, because she had forgotten how very beautiful it all was.

Mia raised her elbow to the web, and the spider crawled on to resume its waiting as if nothing at all had occurred.

Jenna and Felix remained indoors for a time, so long the sun plummeted beyond the hills and Mia retired to her own home. The old healing texts they managed to salvage were arranged neatly on an earthen slab. Next to them were their Angaran duplicates, some random odds and ends she thought the sanctum use, and a sack of gold to cover the sword she borrowed from the weapons shop. Isaac had promised to deliver them when he had the time.

Emotionless and foreign, Mia settled into bed and stared at the dark spot on the ceiling. The absence of feeling after such catastrophic events was highly disturbing, and she felt evil for her purported lack of care about things she had seen and done. She inhabited the gray blur between black and white, a puppet waiting for her strings to be pulled. The intrinsic, basal animal shackled in her conscious refused to lay down and die. It moved her about mechanically while she took a seat and observed her own existence, high up in the turret of her brain.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Felix crawled into bed with a few whispered words and fell asleep beside her. When her spiteful body roused her in the early morning hours, he was gone. The sheets were warm against her hand. Entangled in the delirium between wake and sleep, Mia dressed and ventured outside. Fizz and Sleet went out ahead to search.

A sunless sunrise frowned on them. Frostbitten clouds streaked down towards the plains, the rain willing sky and earth to touch. Fingers of lightning reached silently through the air, and the accompanying thunder came muffled and mellow. Freezing rain pelted the ground in a storm that was neither here nor there. The water collected in the grass and trees, whose foliage showed brilliant green against dark wood.

Mia caught sight of a yellow ball making its way towards her. It circled her head once and perched on her shoulder. Echo's flat blue eyes met hers. _Good morning. _

The corner of her lips pulled up. "Morning, Echo."

_To the tree line beyond the bridge, little priestess._

The pattering rain did not soothe her as normal. Mia inhaled deeply as she walked, rolled her sleeves to feel the water on her skin, but nothing came. Even the river seemed preternaturally silent. At the treeline, she stopped before the trail she and Felix had forged through innumerable escapades to the pond, and peered into the dense forest. "Where is he?"

_Turn. _

Mia obeyed, surprised to find Felix standing a few yards behind her. Vale, now thoroughly downsized, stood in the distance over his shoulder. Echo nudged her cheek before joining him. Sleet produced itself from his feet, took a few running bounds, and joined her. Fizz sat in the grass between them, off to the side, glaring sullenly at nothing.

"Fizz? Is something the matter?"

It didn't answer, not even with a scathing remark. It just sat there, feet stuck out, tail limp in the grass, staring.

Before she could go to her djinni, Felix spoke. "Why are you up?" The rain was so inconsequential there was no need to raise his voice. His hair wasn't even soaked through.

"I...you were gone. I'm sorry." Mia cast a worried look at Fizz.

"Go home."

"I'm—where are you going?" she asked softly, sizing up the rounded rucksack across his back.

Felix, as per usual, neglected to answer. His eyes bored into hers; but it wasn't the borderline aggressive stare he normally treated her to in these interactions. He studied her quite calmly, and Mia, for once, felt no need to look away.

He looked healthy as ever. Assured, more stable than she remembered. Shoulders back, chest forward, a man with purpose. Mia had been so lost in her head that she could not place when this happened.

"I'm a little late, and this is both the best and worst time to ask, but..." His voice was softer than she had ever heard it. "Do you think we did the right thing?"

Her lashes fluttered as she recalled the tattered memory from their first visit to Mount Aleph. She grew very quiet. "I don't know. Do you still think it was right?"

"Yes," he said with absolution.

Mia nodded, looking sideways at Fizz. "...Did we really do anything at all?"

Felix stared uncomprehendingly.

"What if it was never about saving the world? What if all we did was preserve the order of things?"

Fizz turned its eyes up with such menace it frightened her. Felix's brow pinched in the middle. "Order of things?"

Mia nodded slowly, refraining from refreshing her memory of the remains of Vale. Instead, she looked up to where she knew the stars to be. Everything looking down on them, and all of it indifferent. "We can mitigate the effects of unadulterated alchemy. We can stunt it, seal it away. But we can never change people, and I think that's the issue."

"...That's rather misanthropic. Especially from you."

"Things like Alex don't happen in a vacuum," she mumbled with a shrug. "He wasn't the first, and he certainly won't be the last. Nobody ever thinks that they're wrong...there will be another Alex, another Isaac, another you. We're all fresh faces on the same game board. We do all of these things. Sacrifice so much. And for what?"

When Mia looked into his eyes, Felix looked away.

Life required a degree of numbness to the truth in order to operate. An awareness of self, of one's own mortality and futility, were the cruelest gifts ever bestowed upon a living creature. Being this sober about reality was debilitating. Mia no longer knew how to disable her rational brain. Any optimism she had left was bludgeoned to submission. The wisdom of adulthood paid for by the blind comforts of youth.

"You really think that?" Felix whispered, staring off at Mount Aleph's ugly, glowing visage.

"I don't know. I don't want to know anything anymore." Mia folded her arms, finally allowing herself to look upon the ruins of Vale. "Don't you ever think about what would have happened if we allowed Weyard to come to a different conclusion?" She ignored Felix's head snapping around to her. "It sounds awful, I know, but...some things just need to end."

"So you think we were wrong. That we're bad people." Poor Felix, always living in fear of himself. Preoccupied with being perceived as the monster at the end of a dream.

"No. I don't think we're anything at all."

The air in her lungs, the iron in her blood, the heat of her skin had been part of the universe for an incomprehensible amount of time. All of them, every being on Weyard was comprised of the same stuff, the same cosmic terms of service. In the most improbable of circumstances, they had come together to create her, and she would one day relinquish that consciousness to its creator. She would return to a simpler state and continue to exist in the same universe she had always been a part of, somehow, someway.

It should have been maddeningly beautiful that she was lucky enough to exist as dust, on a fleck, within a speck, as a smudge, in a blur of Time. She should have been content with giving everyone her best, being decent, growing old, and lying down to sleep forever one day. If there had been no heaviness in heart and soul, Mia could have found clarity in chaos. As it was, something profound was stripped of all meaning.

"What happened to you?" For all the world, Felix appeared as though he gazed upon a ghost.

Mia wet her lips and looked away. "I'm sorry..."

His mournful eyes stared through her. "I wanted to be the one to save you."

"What, Felix?"

"I know you wanted to do it for me, too. But, no one can save us from ourselves." He came to stand before her. "I walked out the door this morning, and I couldn't stop…"

When Mia turned her face, Felix brushed his knuckles across her cheek, coaxing her to look at him. She leaned into his hand. There was a gentleness to his eyes. They were absent persistent fear and strain of will. Not quite peaceful, but on the way to it. In that unguarded moment, Mia felt complete connection to him. No one else existed, and there was nowhere else to be.

Felix wrapped her up in his cape. Unfolded from around his throat like this, it brushed against her waist. Mia pulled it snug around her shoulders, reveling in its scent and warmth. "When will you be back?"

He stepped away, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

Mia's hand twitched, yearning for him. "Felix…" Under the impression that she would not be receiving an answer, she sighed and went to return his cape. He was quick to stay her hand.

The world stopped turning. Tinny ringing echoed in her ears. The drizzle fell steady, but it wasn't very beautiful when she was drowning in it.

Felix was letting her keep his cape. He handed her a token, irrefutable proof of his existence, a showcase of his feelings towards her.

She knew what that part meant.

Her limp hand nearly lost its hold on the fabric as she looked frantically between it, Felix, and Fizz, still on the ground. "No...w-wait."

Felix took another step back. His eyes were black as sin.

Mia fumbled with her words, weird, child-like terror wreaking havoc in her chest. A swarm of emotion so powerful she thought she might faint. Her mouth choked on the phrase she wanted to speak, terrified in equal parts of saying it and letting it remain unsaid. She did her best to tell him what she wanted to say with her eyes. "Please, you can't. I...Felix, I—"

He gave one solemn nod. "I know."

The breath left her body like she had suffered a physical blow. There was a suspended moment as her brain whirred back to speed. A million memories played over her eyes. She blinked away tears. Set her teeth. Then slowly, deliberately, Mia handed Felix his cape.

He received it with an inscrutable look and subtly quivering hand. It didn't matter. He was no longer her puzzle to solve. Her arms came around her torso, so tight she choked the air from her lungs. Their eyes pulled together like magnets, drinking each other in.

Felix's feet pivoted. His eyes left hers for the last time. "Goodbye, Mia." He walked past her and into the woods.

Standing there, trembling like she had fallen in ice water, Mia thought about a life spent watching people's backs as they left her.

She made no move to chase after him.


	18. III: Teardrop::Schism

_Chapter Three_

schism  
\TEARDROP\

It was summer in Imil, and it was still cold.

His heavy boots slipped and screeched in the mud and limp grass lining the waterway. The little creek gurgled quietly, exploding into diamonds where struck by shafts of sun. They trudged to the inn and paused to free their shoes of debris. A breeze kicked the lofty clouds into motion, and the ashen northern sun disappeared.

Saturos' red eyes flicked to Menardi before lingering on Felix in unspoken reminder of behavior. With squared posture, they entered the inn and seated themselves at a corner table.

"Why," Menardi breathed against her clasped hands, "does he insist on not observing the arranged time to his own meetings?"

"Whatever that reason may be, we will have to deal with it," Saturos intoned with a note of warning.

"You really think him a menace, don't you?"

Saturos leaned back and crossed his burly arms. "He's not one to be trifled with."

Menardi's lip curled. "He's one Mercury adept. We are trained warriors of Prox."

"That's not where I take issue."

"Then where?"

"He knows things he has no business knowing." Saturos met her eyes levelly. "And there's something off-putting about him."

Menardi's eyes narrowed, and Felix withheld his surprise when she did not scoff at the abstract insinuation.

"Regardless," Saturos continued. "He has control of this arrangement. We do not." He flirted his chin at Felix. "Keep quiet when he comes."

"If he comes," Menardi hissed, clacking her claws against the table.

Their contact did in fact arrive a voguish hour late. Felix was introduced without ceremony, and remained silent per Saturos' command. A fine arrangement for him; he preferred to observe and learn with no collateral. While the details of their plans were hashed out, he did find himself in concurrence with Saturos' evaluation of Alex. Some long dead instinct came roaring back to life at the shake of their hands, a biological imperative that screamed of peril. Alex left the impression of holding something sinister behind his back, beneath the table, between the teeth flashed in a slick smile paired with saccharine words.

"And I trust you have a suitable vessel with which to transport us to your home?"

"No. We came through the Reaches on foot."

The faint smile never left Alex's face, but the lids of his eyes dropped almost imperceptibly. "An unnecessarily taxing route, no?"

"The ice floes near Prox are treacherous to navigate when they are broken apart by mid-summer's heat. Given that we wished to respond to your correspondence promptly, as was asked, we selected the best option available to us." Saturos held every still, like a dog tempted to bite.

"Of course." Alex raised his glass to his lips, pressing his advantage with a smile. "My mistake. You would know more about your own area than I would."

Menardi's responding smile was so thin it could have substituted for a razor blade. "We leave at dawn, then?"

"As agreed upon."

Legs crossed and lounging in the chair, Alex remained seated as they stood to retire upstairs. Before Saturos could issue a diplomatic farewell, Felix saw Alex's eyes cut sharply to the right.

"Ah!" To her never-ending delight, Menardi had seen as well. "Would you like to invite your fellow clansman to our table?"

"There is no need," Alex demurred, looking a little squeezed. Felix looked over in time to catch a young girl stepping outside, no more than Jenna's age. His heart ached, and he tore his eyes away.

"Why not? Surely you've informed her of your upcoming absence?"

Alex blithely drank from his cup. Saturos frowned, a rare show of disapproval towards an affair that did not concern him. "You haven't told her of your departure?"

"Again, there is no need." Alex set the glass down with a thud. "She is more than capable of looking after Imil on her own. What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

In their cramped room, atop a bundle of blankets on the cold floor, Felix listened to Saturos and Menardi hiss in their mother tongue. Though he had been immersed in the language, the way their quick words twisted and melded into one another left him unable to decipher a sizable portion of their conversation. He stood and waited to be noticed.

"I'd like to go out," he said when they stared in question.

"It's late," Menardi growled. "Last thing we need is you halting our progress home."

"I won't be long."

She looked ready to deny, but glanced at Saturos first, whereupon they came to a silent agreement. "Don't stray far."

Felix crept down the stairs and poked his head around the corner before breezing through the deserted dining area. An icy wind not dissimilar to Prox slashed at his cheeks the instant he left the comfort of the inn. He tugged his cloak about his shoulders and peered around. Though no one was out at this moment, it was nice to be around familiar people again.

He sauntered to the southern end of the village and stared out at the empty black, held off by a throng of torches. Any notion of pathetic escape had long been crushed from him, either by Saturos' fists or the northern cold. Besides. With what he planned to do, no matter how just, they would never again welcome him in Vale. With a silent exhale, Felix turned and walked through the village.

No firelight graced the windows of any house. Wolf howls echoed off the canyons in the distance. The spitz-dogs stalked past with stiff legs, eyeing him with suspicion, or ganged up on one another in stentorian mayhem. As he passed the sanctum, a low thump disturbed his brooding. A figure made a graceful leap from a first story window of an unassuming house, primly arranged their skirts, and went off on their merry way. Felix stared, dumbfounded, before recalling the girl from earlier. And before his brain caught up with his feet, he was stalking her.

Some instinct spurred him on through the muck, though he knew it to not be wise. The remnants of Jenna's face flashed behind his eyes. This girl was about to have the rug pulled from under her feet, and she would be all alone. This one last time, someone should watch out for her. He followed her out of town.

It was difficult to see even with the stars and a peculiar, green light on the horizon, but she took no lantern. Perhaps it was the lighthouse or dew on the ground that guided her. Thick mist hung in the trees, catching like cobwebs in sweeping pine boughs. Unfamiliar with the trail, Felix stumbled more than a few times, though he tried to do so quietly. He kept a nervous eye out for trouble from what he considered a suitable distance behind, his only guide being the faint white of the girl's robes. A wraith travelling down a forested path.

She ceased her escapade in an area filled with shrubs and hedges higher than his own head. He scowled from behind his tree as she produced a bag. Why she had deemed a few minutes from midnight the appropriate time for this activity was far beyond his comprehension. Faintly amused, he watched her stretch to her tallest and flail for the more coveted herbs.

Their heads snapped around at the emergence of heavy breathing.

Heart beating outside of his chest, Felix started forward with a white-knuckled grip on his longsword. A great, hulking mauler lumbered into the vicinity, uncomfortably close to the girl. Felix moved with caution so as not to alert the animal, but still edged as close as possible for when action was required.

The mauler regarded the girl. The girl regarded the mauler. Then, as if by long standing tradition, the mauler shuffled to a hedge, sat with its legs spread, and picked berries to eat. Appearing rather unfazed, the girl resumed her activities. Felix's hand swung from sword to side as he stared in perplexion.

With her bag full, the girl struck out again. Felix skirted the treeline, wincing when the mauler glanced at him and grumbled warning.

Mercury lighthouse was nothing as pompous or opulent as Mars, but beautiful in a sleek, minimalistic fashion. She paused before a statue adorned with serpents, seeming to pray, then headed further east. The sound of water slamming against rock grew louder as they continued on. Crumbling, pale dolomite gradually replaced spruce and pine. Felix's eyes dodged about as he lost the girl behind an outcropping of boulders, but the sight ahead kept him moving forward.

Ribbons of green light flared silently in the sky, impossibly large. At the edge of the continent, free of forest, they provided light comparable to a harvest moon. The ocean reflected them brilliantly, and the mist blanketing the water took on a muted, almost eerie tone. Felix was unable to decide if the view was beautiful or unsettling.

"You certainly don't have a penchant for sneaking."

An alarmed grunt tore out of his chest. He whipped around, hand dropping to his sword. The girl stood against a boulder, arms crossed, looking decidedly unamused. At his lack of response, her unamusement increased exponentially.

He managed to garble some unintelligible noise.

She hiked a brow.

"S-sorry." The heavy heel of his boot drove into the rock as he turned to beat a hasty retreat.

"Wait."

Shoulders bunched up to his ears, Felix tottered back around.

Despite having been followed out to a remote location by an armed stranger, she didn't appear to perceive him as a threat. She carried herself with certainty and poise. He had no desire to find out why. "You've been with Alex."

Felix swallowed, willing himself to relax. "Yes."

She gave him a guarded look from beneath her lashes, eyes colored like ice over a lake. "Why are you here? In Imil?"

"Travelling," he mumbled, struggling to find the appropriate, mid-toned reply.

"Forgive me for saying, but you don't fit in very well with your companions."

Felix stared. The universally accepted time slot for yielding an answer elapsed.

"Locked box, aren't you?" she muttered. The muscles worked in her jaw as her eyes flashed up to the sky. They settled back onto him for an uncomfortable moment, considering. "What are you going to do now?"

What an unintentionally existential question. "I'm not sure."

She continued watching him, and Felix struggled to place the softness in her eyes. It was almost like familiarity, but he had to be mistaken. The beginnings of a friendly smile pulled one corner of her mouth up. Her eyes slid right, and she motioned with her chin for him to come along. Confused and concerned by her blind trust, Felix followed. At the very edge of the cliff, she jumped. Horrified, he made a quick lunge only to grasp cold air.

The girl watched from a shelf in the cliff, caught between looking unimpressed and doing her best to smother a smile.

A thin spit of land jutted out into the sea, lined with loose gravel and so narrow that Felix could not comfortably stand with his feet together. Fear bloomed in his breast at the height and the mere sight of churning water below. Still thoroughly embarrassed, and unwilling to be outnerved by a girl, he stepped out. A gasp left his mouth as he promptly slipped.

His arms flew out, cartwheeling, reaching for anything. Something twisted into the fabric of his sleeve, and he latched on as it yanked him up. Blue eyes peered into his, the same stern gaze as Alex, but more subdued, yet to catch his coldness. "Easy there, graceful."

At the end of the spit, she clambered down a number of feet to a wide, craggy perch. They sat at the edge, side-by-side, letting their feet dangle over the crushing rocks and roaring ocean. Still miffed by her relaxed, trusting demeanor, Felix cut a subtle glance to his new companion before looking out over the water. The aurora flamed coolly over the water. At a break in the waves, he asked, "Do you know what they are?"

"Hm?"

"Those."

"Huh?"

"The lights."

"Oh, I'm afraid I don't." She fumbled with something in her lap.

"What have you got there?" Felix inquired, a bit bolder now.

All the light fled from her eyes, fireflies drifting to their graves in the bottom of a jar, and he immediately regretted his boldness. "Alex gave it to me this evening." She flipped her palm up. Displayed in the center was a ring garnished in silver and fitted with a pale blue stone. "He likes to go off exploring. He's never been one for sentiments, but this is one of the only things he's ever brought back that wasn't a scroll or rune. I have no idea why he'd want me to have it."

"...Maybe that's his way of saying he cares."

"That's debatable," she sighed. "I know one day he's going to walk off and never look back...sometimes I wish he would leave already. Stop drawing it out."

"Uhm. Why did you go pick herbs this late?"

"My original intent was to come here. Figured I'd do something productive on the way."

Felix nodded in approval of her initiative. "Nice."

Her lips curled in a jilted half-smile. "This might sound strange," she mumbled, fussing with her hair. "But, does this seem familiar to you at all?"

"Uhm…" Felix considered her unusual comport and puzzled, struggling to recall if they somehow met before. "What part seems familiar?"

"All of it. It feels...rehearsed. Like we exist in a dream, or we're trapped in someone else's imagination."

He frowned. "You're odd."

She smiled and turned away. "Remind me, what were you doing before we started this chat?"

Felix sputtered and utterly failed to concoct a suitable retort.

"If you're struggling to find something to say," she chirped with a teasing lilt not unlike Alex, "then perhaps you can tell me your name."

The words struck a chord in him, and he was left with the distinct feeling that this was not the last time he would see her. "Felix."

A touch playful, she stuck out a small, friendly hand. He swore the color of her eyes was branded into his retinas.

"Mia."


	19. II: Shell::Truce

**Be advised** that this chapter contains explicit content pertaining to suicide. Please assess what you can handle before reading. I'm sorry.

* * *

_Chapter Two_

truce  
\SHELL\

Vale became a very nice little slice of Hell.

Despite all her bravado, Jenna was distraught over her brother's absence. For weeks after he left, she came to Mia, wanting to discuss and process. Mia lent an attentive ear, but her lack of reciprocation proved infuriating. Most of Jenna's solace was found in Isaac nowadays.

With no purpose to guide her and no way home, Mia locked herself away and missed Felix more than he would ever know. She spent countless hours trying to smooth the wrinkles he left in her, endlessly grieving the piece of herself he had stolen. Some nights she fell asleep imagining him lying next to her, and her dreams would transport her to lighter times, only for her to awake sickened with sorrow.

Mia didn't have it in her heart to resent him. He decided there was no path wide enough for both of them, and all she wished for was his safety and happiness. It was her fault, regardless, for allowing him to have such a hold on her. For believing she could be enough for someone. Over time, Felix faded into another bad dream, and all of the time they spent together waned into a daydream she once had.

Pain was a cruel teacher, and in her stress, Mia misunderstood the lesson. She avoided the others in earnest, so afraid they would leave her that she left first. She built her walls and made them a canvas to memorialize all her mistakes and regrets. Because she didn't always draw the right conclusions from them, they formed a labyrinth. The map was in her possession the entire time, but it was inked across her back where she could not see. So, Mia wandered in the dark, too afraid to ask for help, too despairing to seek a way out. Not even wings could help her.

Cold silence atrophied any compassion her friends held for her. She would fester so long in the spaces between words that she had to clear her throat when she did speak. Worse yet, these people that once occupied so much space in her heart faded to distant concerns. Feeling and emotion died away like a forest in autumn. The monster exsanguinated that chaotic, imperfect part of herself, thereby severing her connection to every other living thing. Not even her wildest, most improbable fantasies could conjure any event or scenario to comfort her.

Time slowed, even threatened to move backwards. Suspended in state while life sped past, Mia moved with increasing difficulty. Slower and slower, pried apart from everything. Eventually, there came a day when she went to bed and did not rise.

It was loneliness like she had never known. She was left screaming into a void. Not even her echoes returned to her.

And it was so comfortable to be alone. To become lost. To lose the will to live.

Garet became the only one willing to put up with her. He taught himself to be patient and quiet, because that was what he thought she needed. He did his best to nourish her with food and company, even on the days she wouldn't speak to him. And while she felt so detached from him, he was the one thing keeping her sane.

On a day much like any other, Mia laid in bed, quietly observing Garet from where he sat at her feet. Garet was still Garet, and often took to entertaining himself in ridiculous fashion. Frowning at the far wall, he sparked a flame at the tip of his finger and held it to the bright light of the window.

"Whoa." Astonished, he released the flame and snapped it back again. "Look!"

Utterly confused, Mia shifted to look where he commanded.

"Fire doesn't have a shadow!"

She smiled against her will and burrowed into the sheets.

Garet grinned wildly, thrilled he had gotten a reaction out of her. "What's up?"

"Nothing." She coughed to soothe the cracks in her voice. "You're funny."

He relaxed so his shoulders braced against the wall, still tall enough that his feet brushed the floor. Mia coiled around to return his fond stare. "Hey," he said with a crooked grin.

"Hey," she whispered.

Emboldened by her decision to speak, he ventured, "How's it going?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"Good."

"Good."

His smiling eyes fell into a frown, and worry thickened his voice. "Seriously. How have you been?"

Mia shrugged against the mattress, dodging his gaze. "I just told you."

"You always say 'fine'."

"Because I am fine."

Garet stared dead ahead, the grinding of his teeth audible. "Will you cut the bullcrap?"

Her heart skipped like a stone at the tonal change.

"You can't honestly believe you're fine. I mean—look at you."

The feel of his growing agitation had Mia sitting up on her hip, unsure of how to avoid the conflict. She refused to meet his eyes and kept her voice soft, appeasing. "What about me?"

"You're not you!" he exploded. "You're wasting away in bed when you could never sit still for five minutes without having a fit." His voice rose, and he gestured vehemently with his hands. "You don't eat, don't sleep! Don't talk to anyone! You never want to see any of us! Are you seriously going to tell me that's your definition of 'fine'?"

Garet had every right to be angry, she knew. This was to be expected. Everyone else was okay. She was wrong. Mia's breathing hitched as she considered routes out of her dilemma. Cold eyes turned to Garet in a hard stare. "Yes, I am fine," she hissed.

He stiffened, then snarled back, "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Isn't _that_ the question?"

"Why are you like this? We travelled the entire world together. Been through everything together. But you don't even trust me enough to tell me how you're feeling!"

Mia quailed at the glassy sheen on his eyes.

"Why do you hide from everyone? Let us help you!"

"Help me?" she snapped. "I don't need you to save me!"

Garet flinched, heartbroken and enraged in equal measure at the sight of her shouting. "Well I'm not going to let you drive me away, either!"

"Everyone leaves." Mia turned away, unable to tolerate the expression scrawled across his face.

"When did you start looking at me like that?" he asked, disconcertingly quiet.

Mia matched his volume. "Like what?"

"You never look at me anymore. You look straight through me." Garet scrubbed his hands against his face with a great sigh. "Look...I know Felix left, but I'm still here. Why isn't that enough?" He searched her eyes, begging her to offer a solution.

Lips clamped together, Mia shook her useless head. "There's something wrong with me."

Garet looked elsewhere, deep in thought, and they were quiet for a time. "You used to be someone I really looked up to," he mumbled, subdued. "But now...you're this shell of a person I used to know. I don't really recognize you anymore."

Wracked with guilt and shame, Mia weaved unsteadily in her place. "You put me on that pedestal," she croaked. "Not me."

Garet sighed and crossed his arms.

"Get out."

"What?"

"Now."

"Look, Mia, I'm sorry—"

"_Now_, Garet."

Rising slowly, without another word or look back, Garet did as ordered. Mia hugged her knees to her chest.

At the bottom of the ocean, the monster with her face and voice watched as she drifted to the sand. The silence there was incomprehensible. Pressure from that blue, blue water crushed her to stillness. Fish gathered round, hushed and sinister. Mia stared upwards, hollow-eyed, until she stopped breathing. The fish and worms gorged themselves.

On an inherent, unconscious command, her djinn materialized before her. They chattered uneasily to themselves.

_What's wrong?_

_We can't feel you. Why are you shutting us out?_

Mia's pale eyes flickered over them, these little beings that had been with her through thick and thin. Affection, more intense than she could ever remember feeling, blossomed and withered in her chest. They were so attentive and willing before her. But she was blind. Her lips moved in a silent murmur, searching for her voice. "I...I'm going to release you all."

Cries went up, silenced at the lift of her hand.

"Go. Be free. Goodbye."

In their confusion and betrayal, Tonic and Balm left immediately. Sleet and Serac lingered, waiting for her to retract the command. They drifted away when she neglected to do so, lugubrious as phantoms. In the end, it was only her and Fizz, as it was in the beginning. It sat rooted to the spot.

Mia gave it a watery smile. "Sorry...can't seem to let you go."

_I do not mind_, it reassured. It settled onto her feet, watching as she cradled her head.

Her stomach rolled, jaw tingling with nausea. Lungs heaved poison. Tense fingers worked her scalp as she laid out the minutiae of each and every decision available. Using the home her friends built would be uncouth. But, she wanted to be comfortable while it happened. Maybe the river? Should she wait until everyone went to sleep, or get it over with before she lost the nerve?

What she knew for certain was that night would be preferable. The darkness would cloak her actions, and she wouldn't have to worry about being stumbled upon.

So tonight, then.

Mia rose on quivering legs, palm flush against her mouth, heart fluttering and skin damp. As an accomplished healer, she had a near infinite number of pathways at her disposal. As a master of Ply, she could stop her own heart if she so wished. There were methods that would leave a pristine body behind, and ways that would traumatize whoever found her. Would she be selfish and select an option that allowed her to express herself, regardless of the damage done to another?

Therein lay the problem. She cared too much.

But, how could there be a correct or incorrect way to go about it when it was all so wrong?

All manner of accidental death carried an unfortunate element of unpredictability and unreliability. Mia did not deal in uncertainties.

She was too tedious to poison herself by mistake, no matter how sleep-deprived, and poisoning ran the additional risk of incriminating another. She was too young to have her heart quit on her. If a vessel ruptured in her head, given the proper timing, no one would question it. It fit with family history.

Mia recoiled at the thought. No. Never.

Her fingers ripped through her hair, mind struggling to congeal a half-baked plan. The idea of it was so utterly morbid her psyche recoiled, locking itself away and making her a spectator on her own life.

Mia did not want to die, but she had no desire to live, either. She wanted to simply _not be_. Caught between twilight and the night, a dusky compromise that was not one thing or another. She was no longer interested in attaining happiness. All she wished for was peace.

Out of all the awful crimes she had committed, was her greatest sin to have never lived at all? How unfortunate that there was no way to donate her remaining years to others who deserved to live long, happy lives.

When she went through with it, it needed to be as quiet as possible to lessen the stress on her friends.

No. She shouldn't leave behind a mess for someone else to clean up—

Then why the hell was she doing this in the first place? She was going to devastate them. Could she even call them friends? Did she have the audacity to assume her death would cause anyone grief? Was it selfish to take herself away when she had the capability to better and save so many lives?

Taken by a chaotic swell of hysteria, Mia began to laugh. She was a healer. The person that heals people couldn't be healed.

So, Ply, or a blade? Or neither? Why was she even doing this? All she needed to do was calm down for a minute. Maybe make herself some tea.

No. Everything in her body was telling her to die.

But, if she really, _really_ wanted to go through with it, why was she procrastinating? A few minutes and she could be by the river and end it.

Did she deserve to have her one piece of comfort by the river? Doing it now meant running the risk of intervention when she was helpless to resist, which meant a method with quick execution would be necessary.

Her mind jumped. The pond. That was farther. No one would question it if they saw her going.

Location and timing faded to moot points. All that remained was the method. Stopping her heart or freezing the blood in her veins struck as so _unsatisfactory_. She should slit her wrists and put on display all the things she felt, all the things she never figured out how to let them see.

Oh, but her poor friends—

A humorless giggle worked passed the pain in her chest. Heels of her hands pressed to her eyes, Mia dropped to the floor. Her eyes warmed, and her throat ached, but the tears never came. Crying lost its meaning when she did it so often and so randomly.

There she went getting big ideas. She had forgotten she didn't matter. She had no one and deserved no one. Her life was purposeless, pointless. She wasn't worth anyone's time or love, not deserving of safety or comfort. Worthless liar. Murderer. Of course the others might be upset, but they would adapt. They had each other. They didn't need her. She was nothing. Less than.

Rocking back and forth on the dirty floor, Mia mouthed the words to herself, over and over. They sank in. She let herself truly believe them.

And it felt empty.

So, tonight. No reason to rush. She could figure out the details later. And maybe someone would come before then.

If someone came, she'd spill. Mia sent a prayer to Mercury, to Coatlicue, to whatever happened to be listening. A promise that if someone came, she'd do better. She'd figure out a way to foster that connection. Fervently, she wished Garet would come back.

But, no. She hurt him. She hurt all of them, she didn't deserve another—

Why didn't she leave and seek someone out? Would they even have her?

How ridiculous. She had no right to ask for help when she couldn't even help herself.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

The afternoon stretched impossibly long. Mia spent it balled up on the floor. Shadows crept and reached for her, a guarantee that darkness would soon come and she could be _done_—

A shrill cry forced its way between trembling lips, and she began to sob in earnest terror. She didn't want this. Did she want this? She couldn't see any other way. The fire at her back was too hot. She'd rather make the leap out of the window.

Surely Garet would come back? Or Jenna would check in? Or someone else would stumble upon her?

No. This was the way it had to be. Removing herself was right by everyone. And she had always been incapable of turning away from a responsibility.

But, should she pen something to send Megan and Justin?

Yes, that would be good.

For hours, Mia tried to piece together a letter to send to Imil. The papers were either marred with tears or crumbled in frustration. Shaking at the table, quill tapping a frantic tattoo against the wood, another thought struck her. Should she leave a note for everyone to find?

She did the best she could, wrote in the air as she thought, but nothing came to mind. What was there to say?

In the end, her shaking hand managed to scribble,

_This is no one's fault. It was my choice. I am so, so sorry._

_Please forget me._

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Early evening. Mia slumped over the table, red-eyed and whimpering.

No one had come yet.

There was still time.

Maybe she was one of those things meant to be discarded. Doomed to be forgotten by people she would never forget. She struggled to believe anyone at any point in her life ever loved her, and was ultimately convinced that no one did.

This had to be done. It was the only way she could get away from herself.

Mia remained attentive at the table, hoping someone would come, or that she'd magically gain the courage to flee this line of misery and throw herself at the first person she found, even a total stranger.

She was sick to death of feeling this way, so disgusted with her own skin and too much of a coward to change anything. She had run out of places to run to.

Tonight, she'd fix that.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Night.

No one had come.

Solitude reinforced the need for decisive action. In a few hours, it would be over. Blearily, Mia thought on the people she liked to call her friends. Jenna and Isaac had each other. Ivan was young, but Mia hoped he wouldn't be too distraught over the circumstances. She had estranged herself from everyone, after all. When and if Sheba and Piers heard about her loss, she couldn't imagine them being destroyed over it. Kraden wouldn't even notice she was gone. Garet…maybe she wouldn't think about Garet right now. Megan and Justin were older and had each other. They'd pull through, right? Right?

Mia wondered if Felix would ever hear about her death.

Lament over missed opportunities and last actions nearly threw her back into tears. Ridiculous things swelled with importance. No one might ever lay flowers on her father's grave again. She and Garet planned on visiting Apojii next summer. Kay's birthday was in a few weeks. Who would soothe Ivan's headaches? Would the day come when he grew older than her?

Oddly, the most overpowering notion was the despairing craving for one last hug.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Well into the night, now.

Mia procrastinated, holding out for someone to walk through the door.

No one came.

Rising from her chair required monumental effort. She completed a stuttering lap around her home, drinking in all the details she had come to accept as her life. This would be her last time seeing them, and she waxed sentimental. She watered her ailing house plants. Squeezed her pillow. Ran her hands over her books. Took one last glance at herself in the mirror.

Now, outside.

Frosty air slit her sensitive skin as she entered the night. Muted sounds from people still up and about echoed around the village. She could see everyone at Garet's. Her heart beat its head bloody on its cage, opened an aching wound in her flesh.

Her feet shuffled of their own accord. Should she go to them? Surely they'd want to help—

No. This was the only way.

Mia started for the place she and Felix used to spend their time at, desperately trying to enjoy her last walk.

She halted at the sight of Kraden's home down the hill, considered knocking on his door. It appeared he was in bed. She shouldn't bother an old man trying to sleep.

The forest engulfed her in oppressive quiet. The scuffle of animals was conspicuously absent. Bugs were hushed. The world sat with its fingers in its mouth, watching the show. The trees thinned as she neared the pond, and she walked the rest of it out in hesitant steps. The moon reflected off of water so still it resembled a sheet of glass.

Her heart shuddered with recognition. The tilt of the gibbous moon, the heady scent of wet earth, the silence of the water. She knew this moment the way a child knew their bad dreams.

Mia's feet pressed into the cool silt at the shore. It'd be best to do it here. Then the blood would wash away—

The hair on the back of her neck stood stiff. Panic seized every muscle, filled her stomach with ice. Oh, what would her father think of her? Would he even accept her if she found her way to him?

A flash of blue nearly caused her to cry out in fright. Fizz stood atop the water, gentle ripples leaving its body. Mia had forgotten it existed.

_Mia._

"Yes?" she squeaked.

_Don't_.

She laughed for no reason in particular. "Don't what?"

_You know very well what_, Fizz hissed.

"You want to go to war with me now? You said it all yourself, Fizz. Am I not following my assigned part?"

The ripples went further into the pond, separating from themselves. Fizz shrank and refused to meet her eyes. For the first time in their companionship, Mia thought she might have hurt its feelings. _Not like this_.

Adrenaline bottlenecked her air supply. Her throat collapsed on itself, and she coughed harshly. Hypoxia carved away her vision. She was high. The situation came to a screaming head and forced her to her knees. She floated to the ground like a feather.

_Go to the others_.

"I-I"—she inhaled shrilly—"I'm okay!"

_Let me help this one time._

"It's okay," Mia sputtered before curling into a ball. A sharp stab of pain interrupted the line she shared with Fizz. She did not own it.

Fizz hopped onto her shoulder and wedged itself under the crook of her jaw. Unadulterated, visceral fear dominated the thread between them.

"Sorry," she gasped, rubbing her eyes with little fists. "I need to be alone now."

It was not a direct request, and Fizz knew this. It settled into her lap, looking into her eyes. _I will bring someone to you, if you will only ask._

"I'm sorry. I'm done. I can't do it anymore."

_Wait and see how tomorrow looks_, it told her, playing the indecision it sensed.

"I don't trust it," she mumbled, swiping at her eyes. "It's okay. I'm okay. Thank you, though." She paused to swallow back tears. "For everything."

Fizz looked frozen to marble. _Tell me how to help you._

"Would we be having this discussion if I could answer that?"

_You are too clear-headed for this_, it persisted, voice adopting a pleading, frantic note.

"Fizz, stop."

_Your life is not your own. To take it is to steal something away from another._

"Fizz!"

It watched with wide yellow eyes. _I cannot leave until you decree it so._

Mia pulled her sleeves over her hands to clean her face of tears, considering the millions of options before her.

_Please_. _You do not have to do this._

She shook her head. This was the only fitting solution.

_Please._

Belatedly, Mia identified Fizz as a wild card. Her brain was too addled to handle a variable this pressing. But, with its rigid, deterministic mindset, she was fairly confident the djinni would stand by and let her die. Drawing a shaky breath, she crawled to her feet. Fizz leapt from her lap to the water.

"I...I'm letting you go, Fizz," Mia whispered, hoarse from crying. "And you have to let me go."

Fizz shifted uncomfortably as she closed herself off. _This is what you truly want?_

No.

"Please leave."

_...As you wish._

Mia watched the blue light fade away.

She waited a few tense minutes, allowing Fizz time to vacate the area. Holding out on salvation she knew wasn't coming.

She forced herself to quit crying.

It was time.

This was how it ended. Alone. Daughter of no man, wife of none. No one's sibling, no one's mother. An extra piece on the board. All that she was, all she had suffered, from womb to grave, was for nothing. She had traveled so far. Crossed every ocean, walked every land just to have it end like this. No oblivious gods looked upon her tonight. She was the judge and executioner.

Her heartbeats came sharp and quick. Fear blanketed her shoulders, but at the same time, she felt nothing. It was oddly robotic. Mia rolled her sleeves to the elbow. Sickly moonlight illuminated soft, fragile skin, and the knife hovered over like a gavel.

Even in the last moments, she wished Felix—_anyone_—would sweep in and knock the blade from her hands, hold her close, and tell her this wasn't necessary. That she wasn't as terrible as she thought she was. That she was sick, but could recover. That it would all be okay, even if it wouldn't happen right away. But, in her heart of hearts, Mia knew it would never come. She had slapped every hand away.

This might destroy her friends, but if she stayed, she would surely destroy them. This was right by them. By everyone. An unpleasant, necessary chore no one would ever bother themselves with. The dirty work. Tearing off the bandage. Getting rid of the garbage. This blade was how she would reconcile with the world.

Mia felt faint, unreal. Her breath was hollow in her ears, vision tunneling out. She pulled the quivering blade back. Did this need to happen?

She thought.

And thought.

No other viable solution came.

The metal pressed into the soft skin of her wrist. This would leave a mess. A scene. But she needed this. Deserved this.

She set her teeth. Her breathing stalled.

She pulled from the heel of her hand to the inside of her elbow. It made no sound.

Cold air seared the wound. Pain dominated her senses. Blood hesitated, then poured. Mia cried out and dropped the knife.

Her psynergy started up on instinct. She quelled it. Struggling against a near-overpowering wave of regret, she used Ply to unknit the flesh of her other arm. A gross perversion of what it was meant for.

Keening, Mia slumped to her knees.

She meant to go farther into the pond, but it was so, so far.

Warm blood soaked the white of her robes. Water ran red.

It took immense willpower to not heal herself and act as though nothing had happened.

She collapsed onto her hip.

Onto her side.

Her psynergy flashed out of its own accord, acting to save its host. It sparked and faded with her.

Her cries quieted.

She trembled compulsively.

There was so much blood she could taste the metal.

An eternity danced along the rim of her mind.

She didn't know how long she laid there.

And she didn't remember closing her eyes.

;; ;;

Her father would be so ashamed of what she had become.

But—

some things just needed to end.

;;

The relief of sleep took her.


	20. I: Fizz::This Bird has Flown

_Chapter One_

this bird has flown  
\FIZZ\

It was raining.

A quiet pattering, homey like fire in the hearth. A comforter of iron-gray clouds stretched endlessly overhead. The grass and trees were the greenest they could ever be. Beads of water clung to their foliage, splattered from her lashes to her cheeks, dripped from the short ends of his hair as he led her through the dark valley. They came to rest beneath a great, old tree that drooped over a mild stream.

Hands resting in pockets, he quietly watched rings vanish and grow in the water. She tugged at his sleeve. "Are we stopping here?"

He smiled down at her. "We have farther to go."

They traversed vacant mountains, wandered along high bluffs where she could see for miles and miles. The air breathed salty, and the rain let off.

To her everlasting delight, he scooped her up and carried her on his back when she started to lag. A vortex of crying gulls wheeled above. In the distance, past the slender tower of Mercury lighthouse, the ocean drummed against ashen cliffs. Massive clouds of blinding white lumbered through the sunshine, arranging patches of light and dark over land and water.

"Can we stop here?" she asked, eyes lost to the cold ocean.

"A little farther."

They tramped into a meadow teaming with flowers. The clouds pulled away to reveal a spotless blue sky. Butterflies soared on lazy breaths of air. Aside from the birds and grasshoppers, it was so quiet her ears strained for noise.

She removed her shoes, pleased with the warm, soft grass pressing into her toes. A smudge of yellow lay stamped into the ground. Her hands were small, lacking in nimble grace, so she took her time gathering the butterfly up. In a flash of white, she raised her hands and let it fly away. When her companion looked down with something akin to pride, she ducked her head shyly. "Here?"

"Farther, love." He ruffled her hair, then administered a playful shove before taking off through the hills.

She scrambled after, ducking between swaying lupines and laughing. He rapidly outpaced her—his legs were much longer, and she winded easily. As cold sand began to litter the grass, she lost sight of him over a short slope. The merriment peeled from her face, and she pressed her body for more as he called from the gray haze beyond.

She flew over the hill and tripped to a stop. Dread filled her heart, and she called out in panic, all alone, no one else in sight on the empty, pallid beach.

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;; ;;

The black she opened her eyes to was no different than the one behind her lids.

What was happening? Where was she?

Focus...

Warring against her pounding heart for control, Mia set her teeth and willed herself to relax. Spines of pain pierced her skull. A desert festered in mouth and throat. Her arms throbbed with such violence that her body involuntarily worked to vocalize the agony. Was she injured? Why were they doing that?

Before her bleary eyes, the swath of black populated with vague shapes. Mia forced her muscles to work. Her head creaked to the side in an infinitesimal movement. The other side. She crinkled her nose. Curled her toes, wet her lips the best she could. Her fingers yearned to stretch and touch and feel, but everything _hurt_.

Cool sheets. Soft bed. Dark window. Not her house. Not her clothes. Bandages encasing right forearm.

So exhausted she could barely breathe, Mia lifted her hand to examine the thick bandages with a bit too much gusto. The sound her throat had been working for tore from her body.

A harried mumble sounded next to her, and Jenna's arm flopped over her shoulders. "Nightmare?" she slurred.

Mia croaked, "Is this Isaac's house?"

"You betcha." Following a lazy flick of the wrist, a lamp on the nightstand flamed to life. Mia's brain ticked to speed. Jenna looked absolutely tortured. Bloodshot eyes, greasy hair, the beginnings of perpetual worry creasing her brow.

"Hey—" Ginger and mindful, Jenna picked up Mia's arm. Blood seeped through the white of the bandage. "How'd you do that, huh?"

"...I was toying with it."

"Dumbass," Jenna muttered as she rose on her knees and hobbled off the bed. With great difficulty, Mia sat up to watch her swipe a roll of bandages and pair of scissors off the dresser. She flopped back into bed and extended a hand. "Give."

"I'm sorry, I'll take care of it. Go back to sleep."

"Are you going to do this every time?"

"Sorry…"

Using the technique Mia taught her so long ago, Jenna swapped the dressing with a stern grimace. "Is that too tight?" she asked, using her psynergy to check Mia's circulation.

"It's perfect, sorry. Thank you."

"They said you should be able to heal it on your own soon enough." Jenna reshelved the supplies. "How about it? Do you feel better at all…? All that organ jargon they keep throwing around doesn't sound great."

"I'm fine," Mia whispered with a thin, plastered smile.

"Whatever." After fluffing the million pillows on the bed, the girls laid back. "Here, you filthy Mercury adept." Mia accepted the glass with unrestrained delight, and her screaming throat fell silent as she drank. Jenna pushed it back when she handed it off. "More."

Reluctant, but desperate to be compliant, Mia fought down nausea and drank what she could.

Jenna snuffed the lantern. They stared at the ceiling.

"Hey, uhm." The scrape of Jenna's nails against her scalp filled the awkward blank between words. "I'm really trying not to make a big deal out of this—anymore than it already is, but…ah." She rolled and scooted closer, eyes glinting in the faint light from the window. "I'm sorry you felt like you needed to do that."

Mia turned back to the ceiling. "There's nothing for you to apologize for."

"Ever since you've been here, the longest we've gone without speaking is four days. That changed the night you...and every day after was a new record." Jenna's warm hand searched around to gently intertwine their fingers. "...I don't want to set any more."

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;; ;;

She was force-fed the next day. She felt sorry for every patient she had ever done it to.

Afterwards, Kraden stumbled in with a few books he thought she might like.

"You went by my house," he said, voice a-tremble, all crooked glasses and scholar-wild hair. "You went right by my house. I was inside. Why didn't you come in?"

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;; ;;

A few weeks later, she felt strong enough to close the gaping wound on her arm. It wasn't her best work.

"Isaac and Garet found you. Brought you straight to the sanctum," Ivan told her, legs swinging idly from the porch. Mia sat next to him, slumped against a beam. Weight had sloughed off her frame, her hair had gone thin and lost its luster. The overall effect was to make her appear terminally ill. Maybe she was. "Took all of the healers to get you stable. It took hours. And you didn't wake up for days."

"I'm sorry..."

"We camped out in the sanctum until they let us bring you home." His voice shook with the force of restrained tears. "All I could really think about was how much I wanted to freeze time so I didn't have to grow up and live without you."

Ivan would not live without her, for they saved her. Kept her chained down and supervised; a jarring transition from near-total isolation to someone breathing down her neck every second of every day. She had made it abundantly clear she had no desire to be here, a sentiment reinforced with this guilt clawing her insides apart. Who, exactly, owned the prize for the most selfish act? Her, for wishing to end her suffering, or they for seeking to prolong it?

"Sorry we've been overbearing, but you must understand why we don't want to leave you alone."

Mia cut Ivan a half-hearted glare, to which he responded with a mumbled apology. When he put an arm around her, she leaned into him, distantly amused at how small he was.

"Can you please tell me some way I can help?"

Did he really expect her to provide that insight? Irritation bubbled in her chest, sick to death of interrogation and scrutiny. It dispelled. She had no right to be cross with him.

Ivan jostled her the tiniest bit. "Please?"

"I'm sorry," she whimpered hoarsely.

"I could read your mind—I know, sorry. But it would cut out the middleman."

A faint breeze carried the scent of rain passed her nose, and she cocked her head back to peer at the sky.

"You know you're..._allowed_ to seek help, right?" His voice stretched, drawn taut by the absurdity of his own question. "Same as anyone else?"

"I don't know."

"Is that what it was? A plea for help?"

"Did it look like a plea?" Mia snipped, agitated at the insinuation, but more so at her own stupidity.

"I didn't necessarily mean for attention," Ivan sputtered, unaccustomed to her newfound belligerence.

"Either way. It wasn't."

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

This was supposed to be her escape. A grab at relief, a suspension of suffering.

What really happened was she clung to her hurts, accepted fear into her heart, forced everyone away, and mutilated herself. She went into hypovolemic shock, stopped her heart, and ensured her body would never be the same again. She hurt the hell out of the people she cared about most when she believed she was easing their strain.

Now, her days tumbled about in abrupt starts, stops, and repeats. It cost a few more seconds to translate thought to speech, accompanied by very little control over her emotional state. It hurt to grip anything with her right hand, or to stretch her arms out. Jenna was under the impression that she was obligated to act as caregiver. Ivan was heartbroken. Isaac wouldn't even look at her. Nobody would tell her how Garet was doing. Everyone fought with each other ceaselessly on the edge of the blade she placed them on.

So, she was never wrong about being a burden.

While her previous isolation was inherently physical, this kind was worse. Her presence made the others uncomfortable, a sentiment toted by the rest of the village. Mia now occupied Felix's old position as pariah. The spineless healer possessed with evil, a priestess that wasn't right with her gods. They whispered that it was a shame she wasn't allowed to see it through. Children snuck up on their homes to catch a glimpse of her, and ran shrieking if they did. The pond transformed into a place of lore.

Mia shouldered the taunts and blame and solitude in silence, firmly believing she earned every bit of it.

Sometimes, though, it felt like she was being punished for struggling.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

"_Isaac, don't act like this just fell out of the sky._"

Mia tugged the quilts over her head, not keen on overhearing the argument unfolding beyond the door.

Jenna's stern voice rang out again. "_There's been something wrong with her for months. You know it. Everyone does._"

"_And she wouldn't let us help, let alone speak to us, or even say what was wrong. No one made her do anything_."

"_So? That means we abandon her? Don't you remember how we were after we thought our parents died?_"

"_I don't see how that's relevant_."

"_Why does something huge have to happen for it to be valid?_"

"_Even if something did happen, you don't do shit like that_."

"_I think Felix hurt her. Really, really bad."_

Isaac's words developed an incendiary note. "_He hurt you._"

"_Th—that's not the point!_" Tears rattled Jenna's voice, and the pair lapsed into tense silence.

"_What do you expect me to do, then? Or anyone?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_Why do I always have to know? When did I get appointed as savior?"_

"_That's not—"_

"_What's the fucking protocol for when your friend tries to off themselves?"_

"_I don't know!" _Another brief, speechless interlude. "_We can't give up. That's not human. She's our friend."_

Isaac sighed, and from its sound, Mia knew he would be thumbing his temple. _"I don't know how to get her out of this one."_

_"She's so sick. I'm scared there's nothing anyone can do."_

"..._Sadness can't kill a person, can it?"_

"_I think it can, if you're sad enough_..._"_

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Midwinter, when the days were short, the nights long and cold, Mia was allowed back to her home. Still under severe watch, she idled most of her time away with Ivan and Jenna. Kay filled the house with flowers. The healers stopped by every so often to play a hand of cards and gossip. The Great Healer came on his own time, but never spoke, preferring instead to sit and hold her hand. Mia herself didn't speak much anymore, but everyone seemed happy to babble about whatever went on in their day.

Oddly enough, the earthquakes stopped for the time being.

Kraden often escorted her on walks through the fields, short though they were. After being bedridden, her muscles had lost their spring, and she was prone to moving with all the grace of a newborn calf. It was on one of these jaunts they bumped into Fizz, returning from an unmentionable somewhere.

Kraden bustled around the kitchen, diligently reading from a prescribed recipe. Mia curled up at the dining table, Fizz across from her. It did not ask if she would like to contract, and neither did she. They kept a solemn, knowing distance from each other.

_Piers will be arriving in Vale shortly, so the other djinn have informed me._

Mia nodded, mindlessly plucking the crinkled petals off a half-dead flower.

_Ivan is considering having Piers take him to Kalay._ Fizz ceased speaking, successfully gaining Mia's attention. _And I believe the other adepts are going to tell Piers._

She bristled. "Why?"

_You are his friend. Does he not have a right to know?_

"What is telling him going to accomplish?"

_You placed greater value on honesty when I first knew you, priestess_.

Her jaw clicked. "Don't call me that." Frail yellow petals fluttered to the floor.

_What are you thinking?_

"There is no escape."

_Meaning?_

"By all means, I should have died." The stream of petals stopped. "With Ivan's dream, and my own...I don't think this changes anything, Fizz."

_I know_.

Mia gave the djinni a sidelong glance. It returned it mournfully. "I suppose we're all destined to do this forever."

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Isaac came knocking on the door one afternoon. Relieved of his watch, Ivan slipped awkwardly away.

"Jenna's been wanting me to speak with you," Isaac muttered, forearm pressed high into the doorframe. His eyes were dark as he considered his next words. "Says I shouldn't blame you. But, I don't know who else to blame."

Mia nodded curtly. "I don't disagree with you. So, I suppose there's nothing to discuss." She closed the door in his shocked face.

He opened it. "Let me in."

"You seem to have managed fine on your own."

"Well—we can't trust you by yourself, anyway."

"Fizz is here," Mia growled, cornering herself in the kitchen. There wasn't much she could do to avoid him. The one time she had gotten fed up and locked the door had not gone over well at all.

"And Fizz was so helpful last time." Isaac slammed the door so harshly it seemed the house might collapse. His eyes bored into hers, and whether it be from fear or aggression, Mia was unable to look away. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?"

"Is there anything left to say?"

"Mia," he scolded, in disbelief of her behavior.

"Tell me what you want to hear, and I'll repeat it until I lose my voice."

Isaac's leather gloves creaked as they flexed around clenched fists, and the tattered ends of his beloved scarf twitched as he trembled in rage and fear. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"How do you decide to stop living?" He threw a hand northward. "What about Imil? What did you expect us to tell them? You go on a perilous journey around the world and come back in one piece, but you spend a year and a half in Vale and we send you back in a coffin?"

All the fight fled from her at the mere mention of her home. "I'm sorry."

"Did you even think about what it would do to us?"

Mia ducked her head, failing miserably in keeping her voice steady. "You were all I thought about."

"Do you understand what you did to Garet? You made him your collateral." Isaac's accusing hand lowered, and grief washed over his face, dulling his eyes. "I'll never forget the sound of his voice…"

"I know..." Mia wrung her hands, eyes on fire and lips trembling. "I'm so sorry." A wretched sob escaped her chest. "I never wanted to hurt you. Any of you."

Isaac's voice came louder, more confused. "Then why would you bring this misery on us?"

"I didn't think—"

"No shit you didn't think."

"Isaac, I thought it would be better for everyone."

"How—you're out of your mind! We're friends, goddammit! You really think for a second we wouldn't want you around?"

"You only want me when I behave the way you like," Mia said lowly, stuttering her way through tears. "As long as I exist, as long as I'm around to be your afterthought, it's okay, right? Who cares what I have to say about it?"

"You pushed us all away!"

"Wasn't very difficult."

"So, what? That was our punishment?"

"Oh my—no, Isaac!"

"Then what the hell were you doing? Because it sure feels like you want us all to suffer with you!"

"Yes! Thank you," Mia howled into her hands. "I'm well aware of the fact that I only bring pain and misery. Thank the gods you came here to rub my face in it, because I think I might have forgotten for half a second! As it just so happens, I was trying to rectify that issue on your behalf!"

Isaac reeled away. "What the fuck are you talking about?" His words were shrill and thin, almost fearful, as if the irrationality of her position robbed him of breath.

Mia, who had not seen this much excitement in months, swooned into the countertop. She had put some weight on and healed somewhat, but was not well by any means. "I don't know! I thought it would be better for everyone! I didn't think you would care!"

"Bullshit, Mia!"

"I'm not, I…" She slouched against the counter, shaking and quiet. Even her tears ran dry. "What's there to care for?"

Even if he was furious, Isaac would never let her topple to the floor. He sidled closer, matching her volume. "What?"

"I can't fathom why any of you would care if I lived or died. I really can't."

All the tension escaped Isaac's posture. His shoulders slumped, defeated in understanding. "What did we do to make you think that?"

"How can you say that? Look at what I'm doing to you. And it wasn't much better before."

"We love you," he said, earnest as a dog.

Mia laughed. "No you don't."

"You're...you're my sister."

"Don't tell me that." Much as she wanted to believe him, her mind refused to comply. She twisted away, eyes scrunched and hands clapped to her mouth. Isaac tried to help her sit at the table, but she brushed him off and did it herself. He leaned against the counter, arms folded. They remained without speech for several lagging minutes, so long Mia's mind wandered.

"Even now, when you're like this, I know that if I asked you for anything, you would do it in a heartbeat." Isaac spoke slowly, like the words weighed more if he took care in their enunciation. "No one can ever take that away from you. That's just one reason I care about you."

Mia tore at the table with a jagged nail, wondering if there existed any good pieces of her that served no purpose to another.

"This'll sound a little weird—it is a little weird, but sometimes when I was getting ready for the day, I'd catch you out in the garden. Just humming and enjoying yourself. And I'd watch. Everything about you was so serene...so beautiful. Even when you were all alone going about your day. You've always been special like that."

Mia hesitantly looked up. Isaac's eyes were soft and warm, a little like the way he looked at Jenna, or his parents. But, the rage wasn't quite smothered, and the hurt was still raw. She suspected it would be there for a very long time.

"Even if you're stubborn and like to make everything as difficult as possible, and even if you think you've done a lot of wrong...I will always care about you. That will never change."

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Winter melted away, and Mia was allowed a certain degree of respite. She could be alone so long as it was in the company of another's djinn. For the first time in months, she could truly unwind. She did sometimes miss sleeping next to Jenna, though.

Now, she spent her time lounging in the grass, staring up at the sky and marvelling at how blue it was, how big and empty. Sitting there, barely listening to whoever she was with, Mia wished it would open its maw and swallow her whole. Destroy her.

A few highlights stood apart from the blur. The Great Healer dropped the grandkids off for a day. Some old patients came by to say hello. She and Jenna made a weary trip to Vault to shop around and be bored for a few days. Ivan came to the door in the middle of the night after a nightmare, and they talked until the sun came up and slept until it set.

Today, Jenna and Kay imposed themselves for some long overdue pampering.

Mia absorbed their chatter, quiet and patient as Jenna snipped her ragged nails and shaped them to smooth crescents. They evened Kay's layers, trimmed Jenna's fringe, and cut the dead ends from Mia's hair. There was nothing they could do for the brittleness.

Kay departed in early evening, leaving Mia and Jenna in relative peace at the dining table. As Mia sipped her tea, the sheer sleeves of her tunic tumbled down to reveal long, purple scars.

Jenna winced, then nonchalantly tucked some hair behind her ear. "Those look painful."

Mia shrugged. "Did it to myself," she mumbled belatedly, spaced out.

Jenna scrutinized the now-veiled scars, mouth opening and closing in several false starts. "Do you still think about it?"

Mia nodded, lips trying to form an appeasing smile, praying Jenna wouldn't hold the truth over her head. "Every day."

"Oh." The little voice was so unlike Jenna. She wilted in her seat and dropped her gaze, absolutely gutted. "We've all been talking about how much better you've been…"

"I'm…" The apology suffocated in Mia's chest. It was the ultimate confine. She could either burden them with her continued existence or with her absence.

There was no relief this world could offer. Belts and potions looked more attractive with each passing day. All she wished for were loopholes where no one needed to be hurt. Another freak earthquake. A thief slipping a blade between her ribs.

The thought that she may live like this for another sixty years was unbearable. Even knowing she would be this way in another hour filled her with immense dread. A suffering that was never allowed to end. She needed it to be done. To be over. The final quieting of a relentless mind.

Jenna tilted forward, tripped up in morbid fascination. "Did it hurt bad?" She immediately recoiled, horrified by her own audacity.

Mia smiled gently. "Not as badly as I thought it would."

"What was it like?" Jenna whispered, encouraged by her openness.

Mia sipped her tea, pondering. "After I figured out what I wanted to do...I thought it would be more dramatic. But it was quiet. It didn't feel like much at all." She set the cup down with a soft thud. "I think I was dead before I touched the blade."

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Piers made land in Vale one sunny morning. From atop their hill, Mia watched him walk to her. Wordless, he settled onto the grass and looked into the distance for a time, arms hooked loosely around his knees. She was more than happy to ignore him, terrified of what he would do or say.

"They say Goma Cave should be cleared midyear," Piers began, a touch too loud. "You'd be able to go home."

Mia plucked at the dead grass. "Wouldn't hold my breath."

He looked at her sideways. "I fully expect a personal tour of the lighthouse, as promised."

She kept her head down.

Piers sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "I know you don't want to be here, but I'm happy you are." Mia withheld a flinch when he placed a tentative hand on the crook of her neck and shoulder. "For someone as loving and gentle as you...it would have broken my heart if I had come back and…"

"I'm sorry, Piers." Apologies were all she seemed able to say lately.

"I'd never heard of such a thing until I left Lemuria. Seeing someone sustain an injury is one thing, but someone hurting themselves..." He gave her a long look, the gold in his eyes tarnished. "I noticed you weren't eating…"

"Please. Just—don't."

"I know we joke about it, but I am older. You're a child to me."

Mia put her head in her hands, bereft of peace.

"So, when you're healthy, and when you're able, I'm coming back for you. And we're going to go on a long trip."

"Where?" she squeaked, peeking through her fingers.

"Anywhere. I will take you anywhere if you think it will make you feel better. And if there's nowhere you want to be, we'll wander. I think you need to get away for awhile." Piers smiled reassuringly. "Just a little while."

The tears were so instantaneous Mia had no hope of bottling them. She cried like she never had in her life, desperately trying not to think of the last time someone offered her escape. Why did she try and hurt them both in the end? She was going to regret not keeping that cape for the rest of her life.

Ever calm and stable, older and wiser than she could comprehend, Piers tucked her into his side and stroked her hair. And for once, Mia let herself be held.

A week later, she stood before Ivan as he prepared to board the tender and row to Piers' ship. His features were scrunched, though the sun did not shine on his face. "Guess it'll be awhile." They embraced. "Be here when I come back," he whispered into her hair.

Mia kissed his temple and let him go.

Standing beside Jenna and Isaac, she watched them row across the calm water. They scrambled up the ladder, hauled the tender aboard, and sailed away. Nestled within the high walls of the fjord, it was strangely quiet. Only the faint trickle of water and wistful breeze filled her ears.

The ship faded to a blackened silhouette. Over the course of several minutes, it shrank to a dot. Then, it was gone.

;; ;; ;;

;; ;;

Months afterward, Mia finally attained the privilege of being alone.

The others removed anything remotely dangerous from the house. She wasn't afforded a paring knife to peel an apple, or even a needle to sew. Worse yet, she lived under the omnipresent, implicit threat of a psynergy drain should she get any big ideas. All things considered, it seemed she swapped one cage for another.

Living was exhausting, and she couldn't stand being awake. So, Mia cultivated a habit of doping herself and taking rest when it came. Unable to fall asleep, and unable to wake up.

She stirred from one daze to find Garet seated on the bed, back to her, hands clasped in his lap. A subtle shift in his posture informed her that he was aware of her consciousness, but he offered no communication. The scent of alcohol wafted off of his clothing. Time slipped across the grainy walls.

Heart doing its damnedest to burst from her throat, Mia placed an infinitely cautious hand on his arm. Garet made no attempt to rebuke her. Encouraged, she sat up and tightened her grip, coaxing him to engage.

"You weren't there when I came to see you," he began, fading, still facing away. "I...there was all this paper everywhere, and I didn't know what it meant, so Isaac and I went looking. He said you were probably on a walk." Garet picked her hand up, and, doing his best to be delicate, turned her palm to him. Mia tugged back, alarmed at his intentions, but he held firm. He pushed her sleeve down, and after a moment's hesitation, ran his finger down the tender scar. She shuddered and pressed her face into his shoulder.

"Fizz found us. It was so panicked it couldn't explain what was happening. We went where it told us, and…you were so cold." Garet took her hand in both his own, squeezing to the point of pain, and pressed it to his mouth. His breath scorched her skin. "And the entire time I was holding you, all I could do was look at you and think about what I said, or that I should have stayed, or how I should have come sooner—" He choked on a sob.

Mia wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and saying a million apologies. Heartfelt as they were, they didn't seem to mean much. Garet twisted to hug her so tightly she couldn't breathe. Her hands fisted in his tunic, ignoring the pain shooting up her arms.

"What's wrong with you?" Garet cried. "What were you thinking?"

"I know, I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to be soothing. "I'm here now, okay?"

He wept for what felt like an eternity. It was alarming to see him so broken, and Mia could not stop the maggots chewing on her brain.

"Why does it have to be you?" Garet eventually sputtered.

Mia pulled away and held his face in her hands, wiping off the tears. "Why does what?"

"You're the nicest person I know. So why are you the one—how could you choose that for yourself? Choose that for us?"

Her hands fell from his face. "I…"

"This isn't how it was supposed to be. Felix isn't even here, and you—I thought we were all going to grow old together!"

"I'm still here, Garet..."

"Barely. And you don't want to be," he sniffed, eyes cooling with resignation. Though they sat within a hair's breadth of each other, the distance between their eyes was incalculable. "You're already gone."

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"Ivan finally wrote. Said Piers dropped him off fine in Kalay. Obviously."

Mia, who had picked her head up at the sound of Jenna's voice, pressed her cheek back against the window. The size of the bugs beating themselves to death against the glass meant summer was nigh. "That's good to hear. Where did Piers get off to?"

"Dunno. Last I heard he'd been wanting to visit Champa." Jenna plopped down on the bed. "I almost wish I went with Ivan…"

"It's not too late for that."

"Yeah, well." She reached up to tighten her ponytail. "Uhm...we were going to head over to the plaza in a few. We can keep it here, if you want."

"You don't need to cater to me."

"It's not—alright. Let us know if you change your mind." Jenna unfurled her legs, preparing to leave.

"Can you stay a little longer?" Mia squirmed when Jenna threw a glance out the window. "Just a few minutes?"

"I kind of told Isaac I'd be there ten minutes ago. I can swing by and see if you're still up afterwards, if you want."

"...Alright." Taken by impulse, Mia leaned over and hugged her.

"Oh—" Jenna returned the embrace with a warm chuckle. "Hi."

"Hi." Mia gave her a little squeeze. "Thank you, Jenna. For everything." She kissed her cheek.

Jenna yanked away, scowling and blushing like mad. "There's nothing to thank me for, idiot," she spluttered, only to soften up the next instant. "We all really love you."

And they had all been doing their best to make that known. Mia had been showered with so much attention and affection it was stifling. She really did have great friends. They were all good people.

And that was why she had to go.

There would be no grandiose display this time. She wouldn't die with beautiful sadness or with poeticism. She would just be dead.

Mia lost her battle. Succumbed to the monster. She would let her potential go to waste. Everything that could have been.

But, some things just needed to end.

Now, she waited. She watched from the window, patiently waiting for the others to leave.

The door creaked open, and the last person she wanted to see poked their head in. "Hey."

"Hi, Garet. How are you?"

"Alright. How's it going?"

"Fine—I mean, it's a bit of an off day."

She earned a smile for her effort. Garet stepped over to wrap her in a hug, which she reciprocated fully. "Want me to stay?"

"...No. Go be with everyone else. It'll be okay." Mia patted him all up and down the arms. "You be careful. Don't do anything stupid."

"I'll try my best." He mussed her hair before making his way to the door, uncertain. A lifetime ago, she might have felt sorry for doing that to him. Now, she wasn't sure she cared for anything at all. "Love you, buddy."

"Love you, too," she murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat. Garet cast one last, nervous glance before shutting the door.

Planning her departure around everyone's schedules had taken longer than anticipated, and this evening was the best window she could get. For months, tangled in the misguided rage she unleashed upon herself, she had methodically drowned the houseplants, destroyed all her sketches, and given away what possessions she could. A systematic crusade to erase herself.

After ensuring the home was clean and in order, Mia set out her money and other belongings for easy sorting. She did not leave a note behind. There was nothing to say.

She left the key in the lock and ventured partway into town with a letter. This she delivered to the little building that had assumed control of Vale's messenger pigeons. The worker was not particularly friendly.

Walking with a sort of solemn dignity, Mia set off to embrace her own oblivion with nothing but the clothes on her back and a small pack across her shoulder. The dipping sun set everything afire, baying away the darkness that would inevitably come. She traveled along the river for longer than necessary, eyes turned upward to Mount Aleph.

Eventually, she reached the trail she and Felix used to walk. She looked back, considering.

She watched Vale for a long, long time. Dusk fell.

Mia turned her back and disappeared into the woods.


	21. 0: The Beginning::Epilogue

_Chapter Zero_

epilogue  
\THE BEGINNING/

Everything goes black.

Time marches relentlessly forward.

The universe is fractal, doomed to flourish and decay. The same stories play again and again, mechanically, like a flower opens each day to soak in the sun. The bonded particles dancing, separating, coming together, and annihilating one another. Moths scorching their wings on every flame they see.

Fire. Ice. The unremarkable ruin. The savior children. The entangled pair. All of the dust. All of the stardust. All turning to ash. And then, nothing.

Within its eternal cycle, the emptiness contracts, condenses, and flows out once more. Stars and suns, planets and moons take shape before crumbling away to enter new forms. Everything that comes together falls apart, and is eventually made whole again, somehow, someway.

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In a time where there is no time, in a place that is no place. On a fading seashore bathed in honey, there are butterflies. The scent of rain lingers like fog. Grand castles of sand brush against the sky. And there is a little girl holding her father's hand. They are round. They are bright.

Here, where nothing ends, they remain unchanging.

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**A/N: **Why yes, I did wait until the 1st to post so the update/publish dates match.

The beach can be whatever you choose. A parallel universe. The afterlife. A story imagined upon death.

I don't know why I wrote this. It started as a way to organize and externalize the thoughts in my head, but it turned into searching. Now that it's over, I don't know what to search for, or if there's any point in searching at all. I am drained. I am done.

If you have for some reason read this far, thank you and I'm sorry. Maybe someone will get something out of it. You'll probably just think I'm nuts.

There are a million different ways I wish I had taken this, and I hate almost everything about it. Knowing me, I'd hate it no matter what I did. So, fuck it, I guess.

I wish I had more time.


End file.
